


G.S.A.N.S.

by WelpThisIsMyLifeNow



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, And More Angst, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Frisk is Gender Neutral, Frisk is a child, G!Sans based on Borurou's original idea and no other iterations, Guitars, Hate to Love, I'mma do my best to keep things to Borurou's cannon, Music, Other than my own, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader has biologically female parts, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Some Humor, but some fluff, dislike to love really, reader identifies as female, songs that aren’t of my creation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2018-10-16 20:59:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10579374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelpThisIsMyLifeNow/pseuds/WelpThisIsMyLifeNow
Summary: Sans always had trouble remembering the timelines. Some changes felt... Small, insignificant, like mere moments had been altered. Others felt like entirely different universes, like he wasn't even close to the same way he had started.This one, however, was... especially different.____________________________________A Gaster!Sans fanfic.Gaster!Sans created by the fantastic tumblr user Borurou, and I'll be sticking as closely to her version as possible.





	1. Gaster Sans: Another New Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary:
> 
>  
> 
> We meet our first star players: Sans, Pap, and You.  
> ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thank you for reading my fic. It's the first time in a looooooooooooooooooooooooooooong time I've really written anything, and I hope you like it! Please let me know what you thought, and if you have any ideas for what you'd like to see! I'm always happy to get some influence from you guys. I'm especially not used to writing a reader-insert character, so any advice there would be much obliged.
> 
> Have a lovely day!  
> \--Ali

 

  
    Gaster!Sans   

_**There was a crack in my skull.** _

Bones were never good at holding warmth, and as his fingers pressed gingerly at the ledge of the cracks in his skull, Sans could feel the stark brittleness of cold bone against bone. He peered in the mirror, eyes following the jagged lines of the seemingly unending canyons along the top of his head and under his eye. His fingers, seeming to be more daring than he wished them to be, pulled a Thelma and Louise and drove, slowly, into the crack. It was only a centimeter or so, but the sight of it in the mirror was enough to make him dizzy.

Stepping back, he pulled cigarettes from his back pocket. Even with the automatic motion, his hands were a tad shaky as he drew one out and lit up. He didn't know what changed, but it was that one reset, that one start... And something had altered. Millions of resets, all just scattered photographs of blurry figures he could never quite see, never quite grasp in his hands...

This one was... different.

He didn't know what He did. He didn't know how **He** did it. He had changed. He had changed in ways he couldn't imagine, ways he couldn't describe—ways he didn't even fully know himself yet. These cracks along his skull—deep, black, gaping—were evidence of whatever perversions **He** had put them through this time.

He took a long drag, his lungs taking respite under the comforting blanket of nicotine smoke as his brain circled the word. _Us._

That's right, that was just it. If it had just been him, he could've taken it—he had the time and practice to perfect the art of just giving up on himself. But... Papyrus, too. _t_ _hat bastard changed papyrus._ The thing—the really _maddening_ , anxiety-provoking thing—was that he couldn't remember exactly how different it was. Visions of the way things were in the other realities were visible, but only _just_ enough. Enough to know that this one was particularly fucked, but not enough to grasp onto why. Something about this one... it crawled through his bones.

Well, fuck it. At least this one had nicotine and whiskey.

“SANS, YOU’RE NOT SMOKING IN THE BATHROOM, ARE YOU?”

“nah, pap,” he lied, quickly stubbing out the end and hastily shoving it in his pocket. He had barely gotten it in before Pap opened up the door. Pap's face made a thoughtful look as he sniffed, before—bingo! His face scrunched up as he smelled the smoke. He looked at Sans with wary dismay.

“REALLY, SANS, IS THERE NOT ONE ROOM IN HIS HOUSE THAT I CAN KEEP FROM SMELLING LIKE AN ASHTRAY? I THOUGHT WE AGREED TO KEEP THE BATHROOM AND THE KITCHEN SMOKE-FREE.”

“well, i hate to _lie_ t to you, paps, but i _sink_ i forgot about it.” Sans could feel his lazy smile grow as Pap’s humor diminished.

“I HOPE YOU PLAN TO BRING SOME OF THAT QUICK WIT WITH YOU TODAY. WE PROMISED WE WOULD WATCH FRISK.”

“we did?” he asked. Pap’s features instantly grew to one of worry, and he quickly rebounded. “just kidding, pap, i wouldn’t forget about the kid. that's why i wanted to get a smoke in early.”

“HM…” Pap didn’t look convinced but also didn’t stretch the point. “WELL, IF YOU’RE QUITE DONE WITH YOUR LOLLYGAGGING, WE SHOULD BE ON OUR WAY.” He gave Sans a stern look, and Sans couldn’t help but grin. Although he still felt there was something… off about Pap this time ‘round, no matter what timeline they were in, he seemed to compliment Sans perfectly. Pap was what he needed, no matter where he was—and this time was no different. To where he felt constantly… on the edge of something, Pap seemed so stable, so solid, so… _calm_ compared to how a part of Sans felt he should be. Pap was his rock, and Sans couldn’t help but to feel his soul thrum happily, if only a moment, to have Pap by his side, caring for him like always. He really _was_ the coolest.

“sure thing, pap, just gimme a sec.” Sans quickly brushed past the taller skeleton, making his way into the living room to grab his jacket, the item laying haphazardly over the edge of the sofa. It was black, with white trim, complete with a patch on the side—something of Sans's own design, something he wore with pride. As he placed his fingers on it to snatch it up, he felt a flash of… something. It stopped him in his tracks, like the air had been sucked out of the space around him. He looked down to the jacket and saw… Blue?

As soon as it happened, it was gone. He took a step back, quickly dropping in order to get away. Placing a shaken hand to his forehead, he urgently felt the cracks again and sighed in relief— _y_ _es. this was the real of right now, not that._ That… was different. Normally the flashes only existed in his dreams, his night terrors… _w_ _hat in the everloving fuck was that?_

“SANS, I THOUGHT WE HAD MOVED PAST YOU THROWING CLOTHES ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR,” Pap’s voice suddenly rang out, causing Sans to jump. Pap picked up the offending item swiftly—and seemed to have no reaction. He offered the jacket to Sans, before his eyes flickered to his face, and noticed Sans's expression. It must have been a rough one, because he frowned, looking concerned for the second time today. “SANS…”

“sorry pap,” he said, quickly taking the jacket and shrugging it on, taking an extra moment to fix the hood. “i _hood_ have sworn i left it on the couch. What are we doing with the kid today?” Pap gave a small groan at his pun, but quickly moved past it. As smart as Pap was, he was always easily blinded by a ~~bad~~ good pun.

“WE WILL BE TAKING FRISK TO THE LIBRARY TODAY. THEY HAVE THEIR FIRST ASSIGNMENT DUE, AND WANTED US TO HELP.” Pap then stood a little taller, puffing out his chest, as they made their way out the door, the cold air from Snowdin especially brisk this morning. “FRISK SAID THEY WANTED THE ‘TWO SMARTEST BROTHERS IN THE UNDERGROUND TO HELP THEM STUDY.”

Sans couldn't help but smile at his brother's proud stature. _a_ _h, there’s the pap i know._ “and we’re gonna help Frisk find them?”

“ _SANS!_ ,” Pap groaned. “YOU KNOW VERY WELL THEY MEANT US.” Sans stuffed his hands into his pockets, grinning. A male bunny, surely one of the innumerable bunny clan of the underground, gave a small wave to them without looking at the sound of Pap's voice. Wherever they were, their antics seemed to be well-known. Sans gave a small nod in return.

“i think they meant _you,_ pap. all i see you do is read.”

“IT IS TRUE, I AM QUITE THE AVID READER. HOWEVER…” Sans could feel Pap’s stare glance in his direction as they walked. “DO NOT THINK I AM SO UNOBSERVANT THAT I DO NOT SEE YOUR OWN INTELLIGENCE, SANS. THERE WAS A REASON YOU WORKED WITH ALPHYS, AND IT WAS MORE THAN JUST THE BENEFIT OF A CONNECTION FROM A FRIEND.”

Sans felt himself shrink into his jacket, not returning Pap's glance. For some reason, he kept forgetting just how observant Pap was. But science..?  that was something he desperately wanted to stay away from.

“hey,” Sans said, pulling out his cell and pretending to check the time. “did the kid say when that assignment was due? it’s sunday, and yesterday they said they had all kinds of time to work on this assignment today.” Pap hesitated for a moment, but seemed to take the bait.

“THEY DID NOT SAY, BUT NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT, I CANNOT HELP BUT FEEL THAT WAS PROBABLY AN ATTEMPT TO PLAY YESTERDAY INSTEAD OF DOING WORK.” Pap huffed. “IT SEEMS YOUR LAZINESS HAS RUBBED OFF ON THEM, SANS. REALLY, YOU SHOULD BE SETTING A BETTER EXAMPLE FOR THEM.”

“what can I say, pap? as a skeleton, all i know is how to _bone_ -doggle.” Pap groaned again, his hands curling into fists. Pap began to quicken his pace, stomping past his brother in the snow as he reached the treeline that signified the entrance to Snowdin's neighboring forest. 

“COME ON, SANS. I WILL ENSURE FRISK IS ENDOWED WITH THE PROPER MOTIVATION AND ENTHUSIASM FOR STUDY THAT A YOUNG CHILD REQUIRES. LET US HURRY.”

Sans laughed, his chuckle resounding throughout Snowdin’s frozen forest.

“sure thing, pap.”

 

**  
**      You     

**You had a list.**

There was never very much on the list; you could never say you had aspirations of epic proportions. You didn't think of yourself as a very demanding person—not of friends, family, or the world. You knew the world owed you nothing, so you begged for favors in return--just a few happy moments, brief and sweet, was all that you requested.

Well... Maybe there were more than a few, but they weren't anything special.

You didn't get to finish your list.

There had been a handful you had completed: sleeping under the stars, riding in a hot air balloon, successfully helping a friend. While you normally made a point to focus yourself chronologically on the list, this time you had decided to skip a few and jump up to number 131: Visit the old mountain. Why did you decide to jump the line? Well, because...

Well, we could get into that later.

You didn't know what you had expected from the mountain. You didn't know what you was searching for, or what you wanted to receive to satisfy crossing it off the list. A pretty view? A commune with nature? A sense of kinship with this ancient and lonely place? You never found out, because of what you received.

What you received..?

Well, what you got on your initial trip was what you should have expected, from all you'd been told:

**Those who come up on the mountain don't come back again.**

 

You had a list. You went up into the mountain.

 

And you fell down.


	2. Gruff Sounds Announce New Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> G! has some trouble finding Frisk.
> 
> TW: Mentions of blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Thank you so much to coming back to read the next chapter! A super special thanks to those who left kudos on the last one, and a SUPER DUPER thanks to hcatt, who left a very nice comment!  
> I did a poll on tumblr last night to see how people prefer tenses in reader-insert fics, and because the overwhelming preference was to have "you" as the reader and "he/she/they/etc" as the other characters, I changed the tenses. I hope you like it, and please let me know if you have any questions or concerns, or if I missed a tense while correcting (because for some reason I only did the poll after I wrote the chapter, like a dingus). Thank you for reading!

      Gaster!Sans      

 

It wasn’t long before Sans and Papyrus neared the grand ominous doorway that signaled the entrance to the ruins, previously guarded by the formidable ex-queen Toriel. The doorway, deep in the desolate end of the forest, gave enough of a dangerous vibe that even the most bullheaded of monsters ( _here’s looking at you, Undyne_ ) refused to approach it for years. Now, somehow, a child had rendered the doors permanently open after just a week in the underground. If he hadn’t known the kid, he would’ve thought it a bad joke. Even wide open, the entrance still looked a little foreboding.

Sometimes Sans got drunk here. Pap didn’t know that.

The two made their way through the ruins, the snow that had been clinging to their jackets quickly melting in the warmer climate. The ruins temperature was never oppressively hot like Hotland, and not a damp warmth like Waterfall—warm, dry, and (if not for the wreckages of homes long past) sorta cozy. Sans understood why Toriel had little trouble waiting out the world in here

The two remained largely silent throughout their trip in the ruins. Their first time through, not long after Toriel had come out of the ruins to come to the aid of Frisk, had been… sobering. Pap was enthralled, excitedly detailing all of archeological items in the ruins that had been lost to the monster’s history while the gate was closed. But for Sans… He couldn’t help but view it as a constant reminder to what they lost. What they would likely never get back, now that Frisk had decided to stay down here.

Other than the changes in Pap and himself, that was the biggest something else— _someone_  else—that felt so different this time around: Frisk. Frisk was different. Not an obvious way, not in a way that Sans could even pinpoint. They went through things very similar to what he could remember of a “good” run: making friends with Undyne, Alphys, even the King (after some intervention from Tori). But at a certain point they just… stopped. As far as he can remember, at no point had they ever just given up. That wasn't who Frisk was. Frisk was always an unyielding force of motion, ever driven forward. Frisk  _was_  determination. But all the sudden, it seemed like it just… left.

While there was never a second that Sans could remember Frisk treating him differently... Well, maybe was just paranoia, but it seemed like things were different as soon as they met him. It's like they knew.

**Like they knew that he was a _freak_.**

Sans felt a warm hand gently place itself on his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. His head quickly turned—and saw Toriel. Sweet, warm, good ole Tori. He felt himself instantly warm, her genuine smile brightening the darkened path his thoughts had taken.

"Hello, Sans," she said, her voice as soothing as ever as she lowered her hand. "It's lovely to see you again. I know Frisk was very eager to accompany you today." Her eyes then glinted with a hint of annoyance. "Which is a welcome change, considering how much they have been belaboring their homework lately."

Sans returned her smile. "hey, tori, it's nice to see you too. and don't worry, i'll teach them a lesson about work." Tori's smile grew, and she opened her mouth—probably to give a playful retort—but Pap's voice rang out instead.

"SANS, YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT WORK ETHIC. NO, IT IS I WHO WILL PROPERLY INSTILL THEM WITH THE EAGERNESS TO WORK BEFITTING OF SOMEONE THEIR AGE."

Sans couldn't help but roll his eyes. "c'mon, pap, they're just a kid. the only thing befitting is a want to play."

Pap opened his mouth, but Tori quickly intervened, placing her hand on his arm again. With it came a pleasant tingle in his stomach from the gesture, if only barely. While there had been plenty of...  _distractions_  in the underground, Tori was never one Sans had exactly turned towards. She seemed too good of a friend to... Well, he had no better term than  _use._  He didn’t want to use her as a distraction like he had the others. Still, a guy had a right to wonder...

"Now now, Sans, why don't you go find Frisk? You may be right—they do have a right to play, but now it is high time for some work. I believe they went to go talk to some Froggits towards the entrance a little bit ago."

 _ever the mediator, tori._  "all right, but don't get teary and croak up now that I'm gone."

Tori snickered softly as Pap let out a frustrated sigh. Chuckling, Sans stepped through the well-lit house until he reached the front door and re-entered the red and purple gloom of the ruins. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked, enjoying the echoes of his footsteps as he made his way through the caverns. The air was so much fresher here—even moreso than at the barrier itself. Every once in a while a dusty breeze would flow through, the only real indicator that there was any kind of opening to the world above. As pleasant as the sensation was, Sans couldn’t help but wish that they would just plug the damn hole up; it was too painful of a reminder how close escape could be, if not for the barrier.

Eventually he found the typical location of the Froggits, but the kid was nowhere to be found. Asking around as best he could (even monster to monster, it was hard to communicate sometimes), he got the general sense that they had passed through here a little while ago, heading in the direction of the deeper reaches of the ruins. Each step seemed to take him towards fresher air, but also seemed to raise his unease—what was the kid doing all the way out here? From what Tori had said when they had first explored, it was really only her that went out this far; even the moldsmals and froggits didn’t seem to bother.

As… different as the kid had been, they had no inclination of being anything other than peaceful. Sans could trust Frisk. Right?

He felt his pace quicken. Eventually the place became bare; a few puzzles here and there, but nothing that he couldn’t easily flicker past.  _Jeeze, kid, why bother going all through this?_  He was about to give up, figuring he had just missed a door and passed them by mistake, when he heard soft murmurs from a wide entryway, easy to miss. Stepping through it, he nearly fell over them. The kid had found some kind of balcony that had a nice view of the ruins, all purple hues, and had been hunched over right by the doorway. It took him a second to catch his balance.

“woah, kid, whatcha-“ he felt his insides freeze as he looked over, and saw something right by them on the ground. Something they had been extending their hand towards-

A knife.

Frisk quickly straightened, backing away from the knife, raising their hands. As dread overtook him, he regained his composure, straightening up tall to face them. He could feel his grin spread. “well, kid, isn’t it  _knife_  to see you?”

“Nn!” they quickly whined, shaking their head. Lowering their hands, they made the sign for “toy.” Sans wasn’t buying it, and he could feel his stomach curl in aggression.

“no௰, ӄid, do **n** ’t  _ʈoy_ witɧ mҿ.” Frisk took a step back, and Sans found himself coughing, surprise choking his throat.  _What was with my voice just then?_

“G-!” they started, their steps taking them back against the wall. Before the two could do anything else, a loud crash echoed throughout the hall. His eyes snapped to Frisk, and the space of a second hung there— _do i deal with this, or investigate? could this be some kind of distraction?_

Frisk looked back at Sans, and that’s when he saw it—tears, running down the kid’s face. They were terrified.

“shit,” he cursed under his breath, and nodded towards the door. “c’mon, kid, let’s go. but don’t think you and i aren’t gonna talk later.”  _what i’m gonna say, i have no idea._ Frisk took a look towards the door, their expression still laced with anxiety, and made no motion to move. He did his best to take a breath.  _had i really scared them that much?_  o _r has the kid really lost this much push to move forward?_

Sans offered out his hand to them, palm up, trying to set his expression at ease. He wasn’t great at this whole “nurturing” thing, but for now, he did his best. “c’mon, kid, someone could be hurt. we should go try to help, huh?”  _that is, if you’re not taken over by the beast that only helps themselves._

Frisk hesitated for a moment, but eventually placed their hand in his. Their digits curled inside the hole in his palm—a slightly odd and disturbing sensation—but he ignored it, gently urging them forward with a slight tug of his hand. The two quickly walked forward, walking towards the sound. As they moved, a slow, crawling chill began to accompany Sans’s steps as he realized the direction they were heading in—the only direction the sound could have come from at this point.

_The other entrance to the surface._

There… Had to be something else, something stupidly inane that caused the sound. It  _couldn’t_ be anything else. Out of everything that had ever happened, all the timelines, all the resets—one thing was certain. It was one of the few things he was sure of.

It was only ever Frisk. There was no other option; it was a solid a rule to the timelines, almost like a law of reality.

The two stepped into the great cavern and stopped short. Though it was neither of their first times, just the sight of it—light,  _real_  light—blinded them instantly. Frisk let go of his hand as they shielded their eyes. It took Sans a long moment, but his eyes slowly got adjusted, taking in the surroundings—blinding column of light, the rocky floor of the cavern, a wide bed of golden flowers-

And a human body among them.

His soul itself seemed to pause as numb shock overtook him.

 _well_ , he thought, feeling his mouth go dry,  _i guess this version of me was always for breaking some laws…_

Suddenly, Frisk let out a startled cry, sighting the body. Before Sans could make a move, Frisk took off, running towards the prone figure.

“kid!” he quickly called out, taking after them, feeling his panic surge. This could have been a trick, a trap, or the evil incarnate itself, come to reign terror now that Frisk had rejected them. Raising his hand, he quickly engaged Frisk in battle, their soul encased in blue as he forcibly stopped them. He tried to keep his gaze level, but he could feel sweat start to prickle—he was goddamn nervous.

This was…  _bad._

 

 

           You          

The first thing you remembered was a baseline resounding through your head, slowly cutting through the fog. Your mind attempted to attach it to anything—was there a drummer coming towards you? _Dun-dun, dun-dun, duh-duhn._ It sounded like a bad rendition of the _Jaws_ theme.

You tried to open your eyes as the sound slowly got louder, seeming to creep forward. You realized you couldn't. You tried to take in air—and realized your breath was slow, slower than you had imagined. Your breath inward seemed to be taking hours.

Suddenly, you felt your consciousness peak, and with it came _pain._ The air became pain, sound became pain—hell, existence itself seemed like an aching, endless void. You immediately felt yourself trying to search for a way back into your unconscious state, but the pain only furthered you away from the previously pleasant nothingness that had consumed you. You opened your eyes, and waited for the blurry fog to subside. After some time, details became clear: the sound became that of your heartbeat (clear, but still pounding in your head as you sat up), odd, rocky formations in the distance, the smell of musty stagnant water, paired by a sweeter, slightly stinging scent-

 _Flowers._ You looked down. Lo and behold, you were... on a bed of extraordinarily bright flowers, almost glowing as they stood in the small area illuminated around you. _What the everloving fuck._ If it wasn't for the pain invading nearly every sensation of your being, you would have thought it a dream. It was almost impossible to not think of it as a dream anyway. You looked up, desperately trying to cling onto every detail to better make sense—and there it was. The hole in the ceiling.

That was the moment it rushed back to you—you had fallen down the old mountain. Were you in hell? Purgatory? A ghost, rejected out of your own body? There was literally no way you could have physically survived such a landing. You looked around, and found no other body than the one currently aching. With a wince, you flexed your hands. They were still yours. They seemed physical, real. You were indeed bloody, but nothing that looked worse than when you were a kid and would take a tumble at recess. Looking back up, you grimaced. Sure, you had heard of those who had fallen great heights while intoxicated and had somehow survived, maybe the freak skydiver who's parachute hadn't deployed... But it just seemed like there would be no way.

Well, you certainly ached. With a short gasp of pain, you forced your legs into a proper sitting position. Okay. What are the chances you’re alive here? Less than 10%? If you did make it, the first thing you needed to do was to find water. Or was it shelter? Both? And while you’re not superstitious, if this is purgatory, or hell-

It was then that you began to hear some echoes, just on the edge of hearing. Followed by... footsteps. Multiple. You quickly looked up. You quickly looked around. There seemed to be only one exit, and nowhere to hide—although the crags of the walls were certainly jagged, the area was largely clear. So... What else? From what you could hear of the increasingly loud echoes, it... It sounded too much like shoes slapping against pavement. Panic began to swell within you. Holy shit, you were just kidding, but were you actually in hell? Do demons wear shoes? How do you escape from that? If there's nowhere to hide... should you just play dead?

In your panic, there was one thing clear:

You were in for one hell of a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated cutting this into two chapters and having only G!'s view be present, but since the pacing is going initially slower than I predicted, I decided to put some of you in there too. I hope it's not too long!
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please let me know what ya'll think!


	3. Ghouls Stand Amidst Nefarious Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our star players meet each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> Thank you for coming back to this chapter! Again, thank you tremendously to everyone who left kudos!!!!!!!! THEY FUEL ME. And THE BIGGEST OF BOULDER-SUPLEXING THANK YOUS to Marionette1, Trash_McTrash (by the way, that name is magnificent), and Circus4APsycho8 for commenting! I cannot tell you how much it means to me to have people interacting with the content. 
> 
> I had to break off this chapter in a weird place, so the next chapter will be coming shortly, as I already have it written. My apologies for the odd placement.
> 
> This content has some specific warnings in that it mentions concerns of mental health--namely, hallucinations and schizophrenia. I'll discuss a bit more about this in the end notes, and give a more detailed summary of the chapter at the bottom for those who wish to skip it due to this content.

 

           You          

You were still groggy as someone appeared in the archway that marked the entrance to the cave, your vision blurred to the point of making the figure a simple blob amongst the darkness. Your heart pounded as they quickly moved towards you—you decided to play dead after all, closing your eyes and attempting to keep your breath even. Maybe they’d leave you be, or at least not attack you if they thought you were dead.

You heard the footsteps approach and stop at your side. The person seemed to pause a moment before you suddenly felt hands on your shoulder, shaking you gently. You did your best not to move. They shook you harder, and you did your best to keep your face neutral.

“Nnn!” you heard a sudden high-pitched whine, and felt something wet hit your face. At first you thought you imagined it, until another two followed. You risked opening your eyes the tiniest bit you could manage-

All you could see in front of you was a striped sweater, purple and pink. You saw the hands that had shook you, and they appeared… _Child-sized._

Unable to stop your curiosity, you looked up into the face of a crying child, suspicions confirmed. What the hell was a child doing here?

Well, whatever the reason was, you couldn’t let them cry and think you were dead. You fully opened your eyes and touched their leg gently. At your movement, they jumped, startled, but you quickly attempted to dissuade their surprise. “Sorry! Nono, please don’t cry, I’m alright.” You attempted to sit up, but _oh god_ did it ache.

“S-see?” you offered, trying all you could to keep pain out of your expression. The child, a mousse-haired and slightly grubbing looking kid of maybe eight or nine years old, wiped their eyes. Suddenly, they hugged you, knocking into you with a force that nearly bowled you over.

“O-oh, kid,” you said, suppressing the urge to curse as your organs were squeezed, “please, go a little gentle on me.” They quickly backed off, wiping their eyes. Your heart warmed slightly; although you weren’t the biggest on kids, you certainly didn’t want to see one cry. “What’s your name?”

They looked up at you in silence for a beat. You wondered for a moment if maybe they couldn’t understand you, but they then looked down, whispering softly. You barely caught the edge of a word.

“…Frisk, did you say?” you asked, and they nodded, continuing their silence. You wondered why they didn’t want to talk. “Frisk, where are we? Where are your parents?” They frowned, then, after a moment of deliberation, moved closer towards you. They leaned in towards your ear, before you heard the barest mumble of a word:

“ _ **Mon…sters…**_ ”

You pulled away from them, confused, before you saw _it._

Behind Frisk, waiting in the darkness, was a _mother fucking skeleton_. You blinked, attempting to clear your vision, but the figure was undeniable. Your mind instantly raced—was this hell after all? Was Frisk being held against their will? Did Frisk not even know that there was a monster, out there, in the darkness?

“What the everloving…” you gasped feeling your stomach drop _._ You attempted to stand quickly, to no avail, and instead attempted to kick yourself backward feebly with your legs. _No no no no no no_. Twisting around, the child followed your gaze to the skeleton behind them, before looking back at you in earnest, raising their hands defensively and waving, as if defending it. Did this kid really see what was behind them?!

“Nnnn!” They quickly whined, before making a series of rapid gestures. You couldn’t speak sign language (you had been thinking about classes forever—damn it all for putting it off for so long), and it was hard to understand. Heart pounding, your eyes went from rapidly-signing Frisk to the skeleton behind them. You caught its glance—its expression was surprisingly neutral at first glance, but those _eyes_ …

They were _absolutely terrifying_. The sclera and surrounding socket were pure black, one eye utter darkness, the other lit with a white iris and black pupil. Two major cracks surrounded the eyes—one, above the pure black eye, extending above into its cranium—the other, below the eye with an iris, reaching down to its mouth. The lone pupil’s threatening stare was enough to momentarily stop your heart. It must have noticed your expression change for the worse, because it then spoke out.

“kid, i don’t think they understand.” _This thing can talk?_ Its voice was surprisingly smooth in tone, with just a little bit of rumble as it displayed its annoyance—how did it speak so easily without a larynx? A tongue? Were you just hallucinating that this real person had a skeletal face? Is that something that happened?

“I literally cannot afford to be schizophrenic, I don’t have health insurance…” You murmured to yourself. Your head was still pounding, and your breath seemed to be coming to you much more raggedly than it should. Frisk, no longer signing, looked at you with confusion. After a moment of thought, their face suddenly scrunched up, and they opened their mouth.

“I… I…” they began. The expression on their face was so distressed you couldn’t help but intervene.

“It’s okay, Frisk, you don’t have to talk. Please. Are...” you hesitated, looking into their eyes, their expression one of urgency and desperation. “Are you trying to say I shouldn’t be afraid?”

They quickly nodded, smiling warmly, their smile so wide it was like they were trying to will a sense of ease into you. You glanced back at the skeleton, and couldn’t help but grimace. Then again, here was a kid trying to protect you—trying to help you. Shouldn’t you be the one trying to protect them from it?

You once again attempted to stand, but even with a great push of effort you couldn’t force yourself to rise from the dirt, stinging pain brushing against your scraped palms and up into your arms. The skeleton took a step towards you, and you couldn’t help it—you flinched. It noticed.

“listen, i know we’re strangers, but i ain’t a guy that’s gonna hurt ya,” it said. It took a slow step forward, testing, its stare now seeming much more cautious than it had been. It kept its gaze on you, approaching you slowly, almost as if you were some kind of rabid animal. “It looks like ya took quite a tumble. My friend lives near here, and she’s great at healing people. I don’t want any more trouble than you do.”

_Healing people?_

That was certainly an odd way of putting it, but you could certainly do with a bit of medical attention. And, other than the slightly odd way of speaking, you realized that they _had_ to be a person. You had to be imagining things, or hallucinating, or… Maybe it was just really, really good makeup? You sighed, untensing.

“Thank you,” you said, dropping your shoulders as you ran a hand over your forehead, trying to massage away the pounding sensation. “I think…” you started, but then paused. If they knew you were seeing strange things, would they lock you away? _Should_ you be locked away? Shaking your head, you tried again. “I’m sorry. I hit my head really hard. I’d definitely like some help.” The skele—the _person_ seemed to relax a tad as well, and walked over to you briskly.

“i’m glad. i’m sans. it’s nice to meetcha,” he said. He held his hand out to help you up-

_And holy fucking shit that hand had a hole in it._

You could feel the blood drain from your face. _No_ , you tried to affirm to yourself mentally, _this is just something I’m seeing_. _It’s not there, it’s not real._ Your uncle had schizophrenia—you remembered him talking to you about seeing religious symbols that weren’t there. Maybe this was one of those things? Shakily, you forced your hand forward, and placed it in his.

 _It doesn’t feel right_ , your mind seemed to be screaming at you, _this doesn’t feel like skin_. His hand felt unnaturally smooth, and yet almost _buzzing_. _Maybe this is just the blood returning to my limbs properly,_ you attempted to argue inwardly. As he helped you up, you felt like vomiting, trying not to focus on the sensation of your palm against his seemingly-missing one.

You felt a hand take your other one, this one much smaller, and much more assuredly human. Looking down, you saw Frisk, looking back up at you with what you could only read as hope. You did your best to smile reassuringly at them.

“Thank you both,” you managed to say, attempting to ignore the pain in your limbs and the urge to vomit in your throat.

“do you think you can walk?” You jumped slightly at his voice. Unable to turn to look at him, you nodded.

“Y-yes,” you coughed out, dropping the two supporting hands by your sides and stepping forward. “I’m not gonna lie, it hurts like you wouldn’t believe, but I think it’ll be okay.” You looked up towards the ceiling, the hole you presumably fell into far, far above you. You were pretty sure you hadn’t imagined that.

“Where are we?” you asked. Frisk took off in front of you, walking forward with purpose. You kept your eyes on them as the voice beside you spoke.

“we’re in the underground,” the voice answered casually. Strangely enough, it helped to think of him as a disembodied voice versus a walking, talking skeleton. You felt your mind began to process what he said slowly— _the Underground? What the hell does that even mean?_ Your mind, as if kicked into gear, then began to spin— _How? How would no one know that there were people down here? How do they survive? How-_

As if sensing your panic, he spoke out again quickly. “that must sound fuc-” the voice then paused, then coughed. “ah, i mean, that must sound kinda ridiculous, impossible. _tibia_ honest, it’s probably better we get you treated and give you a sec to breathe before going into all that.”

You stumbled slightly, and you felt hands grip your arm to steady you momentarily. No, it had to be a trick of the ears, that misplaced accent making you hear things— _there was no way that was a skeleton pun._

“Thanks,” you murmured. You felt his hands leave you, and it was silent for a moment before the voice spoke again.

“hey, kid,” he called out to Frisk, just as they were about to move through the sole exit to the cavern, a large, ornate archway that could just barely be seen in the darkness. “come back this way. i think we should take a shortcut.” You couldn’t help smile with a bit of relief.

“Yes, please,” you said, fighting the urge to shoot a thankful glance his way, “call me lazy, but I’d like as little walking as possible right now.”

You heard a low chuckle, the deep reverberation quite pleasant. Yes, you could definitely stick to his voice alone.  “nothin’ wrong with bein’ lazy. i’d know; i’m the best at it. c’mon, right this way.” You felt him slip his arm through yours— _what a skinny arm he has_ —and tug you towards the same exit Frisk had just been about to go through. Frisk moved to his side, presumably to take his hand. Cute.

Moving through the exit, you found yourself in a wide, open cavern. Perhaps it was just from your eyes adjusting to the sudden well-lit room, but a wave of dizziness had hit you as you had passed through the arch. The place was certainly beautiful, if not odd: purple and red seemed to be the common colors here—other than a starkly black tree just in front of you. Red leaves littered the ground around it. Could… could things _grow_ underground? Brushing that mystery aside, a path led in front of you, beyond the tree, to the front of a purple-brick house. It seemed to be built into the walls of the cavern itself. Oddly enough, there was no door—just another open entrance. Frisk ran ahead, sprinting for the entrance.

“well, this is it,” his voice came from beside you. “tori’s house. she should be inside.” There seemed to be a sudden hint of warmth to his tone.

“We’re here?” you asked, gently pulling your arm away from his. “You made it seem like it was ages away. Were you just trying to get me arm in arm?” You couldn’t help but sneak a teasing glance in his direction—and immediately looked back away, too fast to read his expression. Dread overtook the pit of your stomach. _Still a skeleton._

If he noticed, he didn’t say. “if i said i wanted your body, would you hold it against me?”

You couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. “That was _terrible.”_ You heard him snicker, and you were tempted to look again—but instead forced yourself forward toward the house. “Tori, huh?”

“yeah, tori is the best at mendin’. you'll love her.”

“How do you know that?” you asked, nearly at the entrance. You paused—would it be okay to just walk on in to someone’s house? You assumed Frisk running in and the lack of door meant an open invitation, but…

“’cause _everyone_ does.” There was that warmth again. As scary as your mind was making him appear, he seemed to be an ole softy. “tori is the kid’s mom, but she might as well be everybody’s.” Taking that as an invitation to go in, you went to move through the doorway—when you felt yourself unable to move. Confused, and slightly panicked you might be paralyzed, you looked back at Sans-

Not only was he still looking like a skeleton, but now he was staring at you, his eye _fucking aflame._ You felt your mouth drop open, the air suddenly sucked out of your lungs.

“know this:,” he started, his voice slow, steady. All of the sudden, you felt a sense of... _static_ in the air. “ɩƒ Ѱσʊ ʈѳʉ¢ɧ σɳҿ ɧαɩя σɳ ɇɩϯɦҿя σƒ ϯɧəӎ, Ὶ  ฬ ɩ ʅ ʅ  Ҝ̱̗̭̖ ɨ ̻͍ ʆ̩  Ƚ ͈  ӌ̤͚͚̝ ͙̙̺ͅɸ ̮̺̰ʊ.”

 

_What. The. Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the chapter!
> 
> A more detailed summary of the chapter, for those who wished to skip:  
> You, scared shitless of who may be finding you in this cave, attempt to play dead. Frisk attempts you to rouse you, and you stop playing possum when you hear them crying. You see good ole G!Sans, and freak the fuck out. Frisk attempts to get you to calm down and trust him. You wonder as to whether he is actually a skeleton, or if you're mistaken. He takes you and Frisk via shortcut to Tori's to get you healed, and threatens you as you're about to go in.
> 
> A bit more discussion on my decision to include mentions of schizophrenia and hallucinations:  
> I was very much back and forth on whether to include this. I feel the trope of "oh my god, am I 'crazy'?!?!?!?!" paints a terrible portrait of mental health struggles and is used far too often as a tool, taking away from the very real suffering of others. That being said, I couldn't help but feel that if I were dropped in this scenario and started seeing monsters that would be the first thing my mind would jump to ("Am I hallucinating this?"). Although a child might be more easily accepting of monsters, when taking a realistic look at the reactions of adults, I just can't see any way for a person not to question what they're seeing in this scenario. While the story itself is obviously fantasy, I really wanted to create "You" as realistically as possible. 
> 
> I truly hope that I conveyed the character's thought process in a way that treated the mention of these serious topics well. There may be a bit of black humor in regards to these topics in the future (as one of our two main characters is a comedian), but I promise those moments too will be carried with a sense of sobriety and dignity to the topics of hand (as in, laughing with, not at them). This will not be the only chapter that mentions these and other features of mental health, as I feel them pertinent to the characters at hand, but please let me know if you need any additional tags/tools/warnings to help as you read this story. 
> 
> Thank you for reading as always, and please let me know what you think!


	4. Goat Stepmoms Are Nothing Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find yourself in an unfamiliar room after a very odd dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> I'm sorry if this gets repetitive, but HOLY SHIT THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who left kudos, and a extra special thank you to Circus4APsycho8, Marionette1, Punny_Fan, Kaiser, neo_fire_kitten, and rebel_raven for commenting!!!!!! The nature of the comments were so awe-inspiring (especially the last one, holy shit raven thank you!!!0!) I was driven to write two chapters!!!!!! I'll post the second one tomorrow for sure as a thank-you to you all. Having not had this amount of inspiration in forever, I cannot tell you how much it means to me to have the drive to write MORE than I planned--it literally hasn't happened in years. I hope you know how much it means to me; you guys are literally giving me my life back again, and that's no overstatement. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.  
> I did a bit of a more detailed explaination/thank you here, if you're interested: http://gastersans.tumblr.com/post/161427351445/ooc-thank-you .  
> I hope you all like the chapter!

Slowly, sleepily, you felt the contact of warm sheets against your skin, slightly damp from sweat as you awoke. A soft, tinkling tune played from somewhere nearby, and you wondered dimly if you had left your TV or computer on before falling asleep. Attempting to shift, you felt your body ache with the merest hint of motion, and you couldn’t help but give a soft groan at the dull pounding in your joints. How long had you been asleep for? You took a breath, attempting to rewind time in your head. What was the last thing you remembered? There were flashes of a dream—pain, children, skeletons, glowing eyes, static… Not the weirdest dream you’ve had, but certainly the most vivid.

It took you a while, but eventually you summoned the inner strength to sit yourself up. Your eyes felt disturbingly puffy and crusted. _Holy shit, I must have been tired._ Your knuckles firmly pressed against the lids until you cleared your eyes enough to open-

_You didn’t recognize the room._

Panic blossomed, swelling through your chest and into your throat. The room was cast into a deep maroon color, presumably by the nightlight by the bed. You went to flick on the switch, but hesitated. _What if whoever forced me here thinks I’m still asleep? Can I escape before that happens?_ Quickly surveying the room, you noted a lack of windows or large air vents that seemed so common in movies—just children toys, shoes, other simple paraphernalia…

In perfect timing, your adrenaline-fueled senses picked up the sound of footsteps approaching outside the lone door in the room. Panicked, you surveyed your options—the bed seemed too low to hide under, the toybox too tiny, the slice of pie— _the slice of pie?_ —too random to contemplate at the moment.

The only option appeared to be the stout bureau just by the bed. As quickly and silently as possible, you opened the doors of the wooden dresser and did your best to stuff yourself inside among the clothes. You were pretty sure you made a racket, but at least managed to close the doors before the intruder entered.

As you heard the room’s door creak open, you could feel the adrenaline surge through your veins, making your temples pound as your pulse raced. You could hear a brief pause at the door before the person made a soft noise—a chuckle, maybe? What kind of sicko is this? You couldn’t help but shiver. Tracking them in your mind, you heard as they moved from the far end of the room towards you, almost as if they were purposely taking the longest way to get to you. Did they seriously not know you were in here, or were they just toying with you?

Slowly, the footsteps moved in a circular motion around your room, going everywhere but the direction of your hiding place, as if taking their sweet time. When it seemed they had been everywhere, they finally moved in front of the wardrobe before pausing in front of the doors. They let a beat of silence pass, and you felt yourself get angry within your fear, just wanting them to get it over with at this point.

Just as you were about to fling the doors open yourself, you heard a soft _knock knock_ at the doors. The sound nonplussed you, and you hesitated. Did they want you to open it up on your own?

Another set of knocks, this time more firmly. **_Knock knock._**

Your mouth felt dry, but you forced yourself to speak.

“Who… Who’s there?” Your voice sounded much more timid than you’d hoped it would.

“norma lee.” The voice felt… familiar, but out of your mind’s reach. For some reason, it was more gentle than you expected, as if they were trying not to scare you. Did you know a Norma Lee?

You swallowed, attempting to get some voice back into your throat. “...Norma Lee who?”

“norma lee I don’t knock on closet doors, but i really think you should come out.”

It took a beat of confusion for your adrenaline-disordered mind, but you realized it was a joke. You couldn’t help but let out a stunned laugh. _What kind of psychopathic kidnapper is this?_ Deciding you had little option left, you attempted to steel your nerve, and opened the door.

_And there was the fucking skeleton._

It was like someone had stuck a pin and deflated you. You gaped at him, and held the wall of the closet for support as your already-bunched knees threatened to buckle completely.

“and here I was, thinkin’ you’d be better after that long rest you had. ya look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Although the sentiment was said with a bit of mirth, the way that he eyed you seemed to be completely devoid of any humor. You wish you could close the doors.

“I..” You started, and gripped the crest of your head, trying to trust the tactile sense of skin on skin. “I can’t believe yesterday actually happened. That wasn’t just a dream.”

His look softened, though you weren’t sure why he seemed to be so upset at you in the first place. He backed away a couple steps to let you out. “sorry, but no. looks like you’re stuck in the underground, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” you half-heartedly muttered as you struggled to get out of the closet. He offered you a hand, and trying your best not to pay attention to the sensation of non-skin on skin, you took it. He laughed under his breath at your sentiment.

“no, you’re definitely not a kid.” You weren’t sure what he meant by that, and gave him a questioning look for it.

“How old are you, anyway?” _‘Cause you look about 1000._

He gave a shrug as he dropped his hand. “dunno, don’t really count birthdays.” He then nodded his head towards the door. “c’mon, how’s about you meet tori? i’m sure you have questions about this place, just as i’m sure she’s frettin’ over how you’re doing. she was real worried when ya passed out like that.”

He moved out of the room, and you followed behind, attempting to think to the last moment you can remember. Initially, you had just thought it had been part of the dream, but… Had he really said that?

“Am I crazy, or… did you threaten me just before I passed out?” He paused in the short hallway, making you nearly collide into the back of him. He gave out a short laugh.

“nah, doesn’t sound like me. i don’t threaten people.” Your shoulders relaxed a tad. _Then, when exactly did I pass-_ The thought was stopped as he looked back at you, that gaze just as heart-piercing as when you had first met. “i didn’t threaten you either. i made a promise.”

He looked away from you and strolled forward, his gait as casual as ever. You could feel your heart stutter. _Showboater._

You felt a small surge of fury erupt in you, enough to push your feet forward to follow him. Sure, you were scared shitless of him—but that didn’t mean he could just threaten you like that. You mentally mocked him. _“‘Wahhh, I’m a scary skeleton face, I don’t threaten, I promise.”_

Your internal taunting eased your anxiety until the moment you stepped into the warmly-lit living room and heard a soft voice humming somewhere in the distance. Peering around the black jacket that obstructed your view, you could see a fireplace crackling against the wall, with a simple bookcase, table and set of chairs, and a massive plush chair decorating the room. In the chair sat Frisk, happily humming to themselves as they sat with a book. Looking up at your entrance, Frisk beamed and hopped off the chair.

Running up to you, Frisk grabbed your hand and tugged on it resolutely. You gave a cautious glance to Sans, his reaction steadily neutral, before smiling back at Frisk and giving into their urging direction. Frisk happily led you into the kitchen, and you couldn’t help give a laugh, their positive mood contagious-

Until, that is, you screamed.

Standing in the kitchen was some kind of beast, so tall you had to crane your neck, white fur adorning every inch of their body that could be seen under a royal-purple robe. At your shout, they turned to look at you, and you could see that they were also wearing what only could be described as an apron. Their face had a long muzzle, and they looked somewhere between human and cow or goat.

Frisk quickly whined, grabbing your attention, their face distressed. You attempted to take a step back from the situation, but found yourself blocked. You looked up. Sans stood behind you, and gently put his hands on your arms. The abnormally smooth touch of his fingers on your skin was the farthest thing from comforting you could imagine.

“this is frisk’s mother, tori.” You quickly shook his hands off, the pressure only making you claustrophobic on top of your panic. You looked from Toriel to Frisk, attempting to find any trace of relation where this could make sense. Frisk quickly signed, you figured attempting to dissolve the situation, before you caught one of the few signs you actually understood: mother.

“M-my child,” Toriel stuttered out, her voice light and sweet, though obviously concerned. You thought she meant Frisk until you realized her worried stare was on you. “I did not mean to startle you, dear. I imagine you had quite a scare falling down here.” She gingerly took off her oven mitts— _the giant furry goat beast was wearing oven mitts_ —before clasping her surprisingly human-like hands together. Frisk ran over to them, raising their arms, before Toriel picked them up. Frisk quickly wrapped their arms around her neck, giving her a quick hug before looking back to you. They then smiled, as if trying to show you—not for the first time—tto not be afraid.

You felt a wave of dizziness pass through you, and you shut your eyes for a moment before opening them again.

_Fuck._

Had you hit your head in such a way that you had damaged your brain to seeing everyone as monsters? Did you even have the type of imagination to conjure up such a being in your mind? And why was Frisk normal, but everyone else wasn’t? You took a moment to look at your hands—no, they still looked human, and you guessed so would your reflection. _What the fuck was wrong with you?_

“I…” You started, taking a deep breath, attempting to calm your flurrying mind as best you could to come up with some kind of excuse for your reaction. “I’m so sorry I shouted. I probably startled you much worse than you did me.” You find you couldn’t lie to Toriel’s eyes, and instead looked down at the ground. “This… has been a long day. Or days. And I’m confused about everything. I’m sorry.” You glanced up at Toriel, doing your best to give her a small smile, even if you knew it would come out grim. She seemed a little disconcerted, but visibly relaxed, her expansive shoulders lowering.

“Please, my child, you have nothing to be sorry for. If you would, have a seat in the other room. I’ve made you a small surprise, though…” Her expression tightened in worry. “I was unable to ask you your preference, so I do hope you like it.”

“O-oh,” you stammered, feeling abashed. Here you had screamed at the woman, yet she had taken you in, let you sleep in her bed, and had been making her unexpected guest something special. And—you realized with a hungry churn of your stomach—that special something smelled delicious.

Frisk slid down from Toriel’s grasp, their smile much more genuine now that the tension had seemed to pass. They quickly trotted over to you before tugging you around Sans and into the living room.

“Thank you!” you managed to call out before being directed to a seat. Frisk seemed excited.

“Did you help make the gift?” you asked, and Frisk nodded, practically beaming in pride.

“if by help, you mean tried eating half of it through the process,” a voice said beside you, causing you to jump. Sans was standing just beside you, hands in pockets. You hadn’t heard him approach.

Frisk let out a huff before quickly shushing him. He gave a soft chuckle, and you noticed he smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and leather. It wasn’t unpleasant.

“alright, kid, don’t worry; i won’t spoil the surprise.” Frisk huffed again, crossing their arms as they eyed him suspiciously. He joined you at the table, sitting next to you. There was a beat of silence, and you saw Frisk studying the two of you, their stare flickering back and forth. They then seemed to come to a mental conclusion and began to sign to Sans.

“yeah, kid?” he responded, his expression initially bored. Frisk continued to sign, and you noticed Sans’s expression… well, not pale, because he appeared ghost white to you already, but he seemed uncomfortable.

“k-kid, you’re killing me here.” He coughed and straightened in his seat before looking at the ceiling, as if avoiding catching anyone’s eye. You wondered what had him so bothered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally have I never wanted to meme harder and forced myself not to then writing the mocking G part; it took every ounce of effort not to write the line "i DiDn’T tHrEAteN YoU eIThEr. I mAdE A prOmiSe” and just fuckin' attach the spongebob pic for the fun of it. 
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts, and I hope you have a great day!


	5. Gaining Sanity After Needless Speciousness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out what happened during your absence.

  
    Gaster!Sans   

 

Sans had been on edge all throughout your rest, and it had been twice as aggravating being among the ever-peaceful Toriel and happy-go-lucky Frisk. Toriel had been initially worried herself—a human child was one thing, an adult another altogether—but for some reason had calmed as soon as she had begun the task of mending you. Sans couldn’t understand—he could see your soul just as good as anyone else (hell, even better than anyone else he knew), and yet Tori had seemed to find something about you to instantly trust where he couldn’t.

He had asked, but Tori was unable to give him a satisfactory answer.

“I just know,” she had said. “You should keep an eye on her, of course, but my anxthiety is certainly gone.”

Maybe Tori was just naive. He doubted that someone that had lived as long as she had could be, but he couldn’t see any other answer.

Still, he reckoned he might as well force himself to play it a little cooler, like he usually did with the kid. He hadn’t expected you to faint like that. Hell, he didn’t even expect _himself_ to be this threatening early on, but… Your arrival had unnerved him, terribly. He was having a hard time keeping it together.  

And there was that moment, when he had threatened you…

Had the world gone a little fuzzy at the edges?

Well, whatever it had been, he hadn’t quite expected you to have that reaction. You were a fuckin’ _adult_ , after all. Little tyke Frisk, when they were good or bad, had never so much as batted an eye at his appearance. You… You looked at him with such _disgust_ and _horror_ , and then had refused to look at him altogether afterwards. If he had been a more insecure man, he would’ve even taken a hit to his ego.

…He did have to admit, though, he _did_ feel the tiniest bit of relief when, later on, you reacted to Tori in the same fashion you had with him. At least he wasn’t just ugly lookin’ to humans. Then again, if he wasn’t mistaken (which, if experience told him, he wasn’t), you had even flirted him in that brief walk before your collapse. He didn’t want to make too much of that, but it had certainly caught him off guard. He decided to file it under the space of “interesting information” in his head, and leave it at that. Even if you I be trusted as Toriel said, well…

Wasn’t the next human after Frisk supposed to be the one whose soul was taken?

That’s what they had all agreed upon when Frisk decided to stay down here. The next human. Frisk didn’t deserve it, but surely some other human would. He doubted anyone thought it would be this soon. He certainly hadn’t—he figured the kid would have reset long before now. Thousands of resets… and there never had been another human.

Until you.

 _well, either way, best not to get too chummy_ , he thought. He and Toriel had begun to approach the topic, but Frisk had then come in—and, as thick-skulled as he was, he knew better than to talk about that in front of the kid. It’d only upset them. Toriel apparently decided to approach the situation with the same tactic she normally did when a new human came through town: be as hospitable as possible. She went to the business of baking a pie, and even fished out a cell phone for them. It looked suspiciously like the one Alphys had given to Toriel after they met, a nice updated model with all the latest features. He suspected she was more the old-school type and had stuck to her old phone.

Frisk and he had hung out for a while until Pap had made an appearance, being filled in on everything that had happened. Pap had seemed simultaneously enthralled and concerned a second human had fallen down. Initially he had gone on a tirade about “finally being able to talk to someone on the intricacies of human feats,” but the monologue quickly ended when he caught Sans’s expression. It must have been pretty grim; Pap was too good at reading him, and came to the realization at once that this human may end up becoming soul fuel.

Pap’s lack of optimism towards the situation cemented Sans’s decision to stay away from the human. If there was anyone that could see a possible solution out there, it was Papyrus.

Toriel requested Pap keep things quiet for the time being. Even for this version of Papyrus, once excited, that seemed like an impossibility. Papyrus said he would, though, before leaving with the excuse of getting books for Frisk to actually complete their assignment as originally intended. Frisk had groaned at this, but there seemed to be no arguing with Pap on a mission. Frisk and Sans had simply messed around in the meantime—he even brought out his guitar for a while—until he heard the distinct sounds of you waking.

While he was amused and somewhat relieved at your hiding antics (someone possessed to do evil probably wouldn’t hide in a children’s closet, after all), he reiterated his promise to you. He _needed_ you to remember that, especially when about to meet Tori. He didn’t go through the ordeal of another run with the kid just to have you mess this (somewhat) positive timeline up.

Still, Sans did his best to keep to his inner word and hang back a little, letting things unfold as they may. And, other than the initial shock of Toriel, you seemed to be taking things well. Settling in a little. As he sat at the table with you and Frisk, he couldn’t help but notice you smelled faintly of golden flowers and earth. It wasn’t unpleasant.

Then Frisk had stared at you and Sans with that calculating expression. Sans was worried for a second they’d made the connection between what may become of you as the next human arrival.

Instead, Frisk had made the special sign they had created for Sans—a mix of “dad” and “uncle” (a sign that looked suspiciously like the word for “rooster,” but Sans figured that was accidental, however likely accurate). Sans called it “Dunkle.” Frisk usually used it when they wanted something special from him.

“yeah, kid?” he asked. Frisk then made the sign for “Mom.” Sans was about to respond, wondering if they wanted him to get Tori, but then they made the sign for “Aunt.” Sans stared, confused for a beat, before Frisk made a pointed look towards you, then signing again—a new sign, one that looked like a combination… between… Mom and… Aunt.

Frisk signed again, looking back at Sans, their stare full of purpose. Dunkle. Maunt. Sans. You.

Sans’s jacket suddenly felt hot. “k-kid, you’re killing me here,” he coughed out. If he didn’t know himself better, he would have thought he stuttered for a second. His gaze shifted towards the ceiling, unable to look at you. That kid had some imagination.

“What’s Frisk saying?” he could hear you ask. Sans had to resist the urge to facepalm.

Thankfully, Toriel chose that moment to come in with pie. “My child, here is your surprise! I do hope you like it.” Sans could have kissed her. “It’s butterscotch-cinnamon pie, my own recipe.” She set down the pie, wisps of steam rising from the creamy surface, clearly not still fully cooled. “I do not know if you noticed, but I had placed some leftover pie from last night in your room earlier, in case you had woken up and were hungry. I think it will be much better fresh out of the oven.”

“I… I saw that pie, but I didn’t have a chance to eat it unfortunately. This looks fantastic, thank you,” you said, flushing. Sans had never seen a human’s skin alter color like that, and couldn’t help but find the color change pleasant to watch. The sensation quickly soured when Sans noticed you refused to look at Tori just as you had with him—were you the type that had difficulty accepting gifts, or did you really find her that repulsive? Sans felt his stomach twist into a disconcerting knot.

“You are very welcome, my child,” she said, smiling brightly. If she had noticed your lack of eye contact, she didn’t show it. “I imagine you have many questions about where you are, who we are, and the like. I’d like you to take a moment to eat first; you slept for quite some time, and I imagine you are quite hungry.”

“Oh my god, yes,” you said, before taking a hesitant look upwards towards Tori, your expression slightly sheepish. “I can’t even remember the last time I ate. I appreciate you taking me in and I want to be polite, but please excuse me if I pig out for a second.” At this, Toriel laughed. Sans couldn’t help but feel his sourness curb at the sound of her warm voice echoing out in the house. She shook her head and cut a few slices of pie, setting them out in front of you, Frisk, Sans, before finally herself.

“Please, my child, pig out. You won’t be _bacon_ my heart.” She eyed Sans and gave a wink, to which Sans and Frisk both gave a deep snicker. You, on the other side, nearly spit out your pie.

“Oh my _God_ , Tori, first him and now you.” You then shook your head, but had a wide grin on your face. “You have to meet my dad, he…” the smile on your face quickly dissolved, and you set your fork down. “Er. Sorry. My dad is like the pun _king_. You would like him a lot.” You stared down at your lap for a moment. However ravenous you claimed to be, the hunger seemed like it had suddenly passed. Tori cleared her throat, giving Sans a pointed look before placing her hand towards you.

“My dear, perhaps it is best if we discuss where you are now. Sans told me that he had mentioned we are in what is called the Underground to you, correct?” You nodded, picking your fork up once again, taking another stab of pie. Apparently your hunger won out over your discontent. You even managed to look at Toriel as she spoke. “Long ago, possibly even before your history books have recorded, our people went at war with yours in a battle that decimated most of our population. We were forced to flee to the safety of this mountain, and were sealed underneath by your predecessors. We have lived under here, deep under the mountain ever since. What you fell into was the mere peak of the Underground—as unbelievable as it may sounds, throughout the centuries, we have carved a home for ourselves into the mountain—there’s a few towns and even a city here, New Home. It is by no means huge, but we have certainly found a way to survive in our prison down here. We do one day hope to return to the surface, but have not been able to.”

Sans studied your expression intently as Toriel spoke. You managed to eat a few bites, your expression surprisingly neutral. From what Sans understood, humans had no recollection of the monsters that once lived on the surface—he expected mouth open in surprise, yelling, _something_.

Instead, you looked thoughtful for a period of time, if not confused. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you looked at Toriel again before finally speaking.

“I’m not sure how to put this, and I hope this isn’t rude, but… This house, your clothes, they all seem…” You seemed to look from Toriel to Sans, searching for the right words. “Well, a little different from what I know, but certainly well-made. I imagine if you have them, you also have things like rope. Why not just climb back out the hole I fell in? Or dig your way out?”

Toriel shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid this cannot be the case. There’s always the question of what if war were to happen upon our leave, and well… It’s a quite complicated matter, but to put it shortly, we were sealed in by a powerful magic barrier. We are… unable, as of yet, to break it.” Sans noticed the pause in her speech, and felt a slight kick in his gut. _With you, we could be_. He doubted Toriel was in favor of this, though. You suddenly barked out a laugh, seeming to startle Tori.

“Magic?” you asked, your eyes wide. “Uh. I…’ you paused again. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I wasn’t expecting that answer. Uh, where I’m from, we don’t exactly believe in magic. I mean, not most people. It’s certainly never had hard scientific evidence or anything. And as for war, I don’t see why they should go to war with you. There’s, like, rules about that type of thing, most countries only do it if they’re defending from attacks. There’s a lot of complicated politics involved, you have to have approval through a lot of different systems in most places… And, anyway, why should they want to attack you? You all seem perfectly pleasant, I don’t see why anyone would want to hurt you.”

Sans exchanged glances with Toriel. Toriel seemed pleased by this response, but Sans wasn’t convinced. Sure, they had been pretty certain humans no longer knew about the existence of magic, but was this chick blind? He had enough memories and nightmares to prove humans would _gladly_ kill every monster they could lay their hands on.

“I cannot tell you how glad I am to hear that,” Toriel started, clasping her hands together on the table. For a second Sans was worried that without the information he had she would be thinking the above world was all kittens and rainbows, but then her expression saddened slightly. “However, as much as I wish to believe you, I know not every human would take as kindly to us monsters as you and Frisk here have.”

For such an inane statement, it seemed to hit you like a ton of bricks. Sans had read a few human anatomy textbooks out of curiosity in his time, but he was getting a real lesson today as he watched your color change a second time, this one much lighter than before. He wondered if the pie was making you ill.

You stood up suddenly, startling Toriel and Sans both. Before Sans could conjure a thing, however, you pointed your finger at them.

“HOLY SHIT I’M NOT HALLUCINATING, YOU’RE BOTH MONSTERS!”

 

 **                   
**      You     

The relief at Toriel’s words confirming you weren’t hallucinating their appearances crashed a wave over all surprise you should have been feeling in that moment for their existence. You wanted to dance. _My perception of reality is real, I don’t have to worry, I don’t need any insurance, no side effects for me, no worries about lying to them about what I’m seeing-!_ Your euphoria at the lifted burden was stifled as soon as you noticed their expression. Toriel had stood, her grand stature looming over you. Sans too had stood, but his stance seemed casual—until your eyes met his, and you saw him looking at you with the same expression he had when you first met.

At first you wondered if they were going to attack you, but you quickly realized they weren’t moving, as if waiting for you to make a move. Were… Were they frightened? Of you?

You quickly held your hands up and took a step back, nearly falling over the chair behind you. “Nonononono,” you said, attempting to back away as quickly as possible to show you had no want of aggression. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m so sorry, I just…” You looked behind you to the doorway, and suddenly felt your panic surge. If they _did_ decide to attack you, where could you go? You could run, but there was only the cave, the entrance far too high up… “I just, I thought when I first saw Sans that I was hallucinating he was a skeleton. I thought I was hallucinating you too, Toriel. I’m so sorry. I really don’t mean you any harm, I swear.” Toriel’s expression had softened, but Sans—Sans didn’t look like he was buying it, like he was ready to fight you. How does one even _fight_ a skeleton? What was there to hit, really?

It was then that… something you found it difficult to describe happened. The surrounding sounds became hollow, as if you had cups around your ears, the colors began to dim, and you began to feel something like the sensation of your heart getting caught in your throat, but instead like it was getting caught in your _chest_ cavity and trying to break free-

You then felt great, long limbs pull around your torso, and the darkness immediately snapped back to its normal color, the pulling sensation in your chest gone. You felt yourself be lifted up, and you gave out a yell, only to be dwarfed by a much louder voice from behind you.

“THIS MUST BE THE HUMAN! OH MY STARS, I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW EXCITED I AM TO MEET YOU.” The arms then set you down, and you heard the voice behind you cough.

Literally, _what the fuck._ You spun around, heart reverbing in your chest so fast you were worried it was going to escape after all. You saw a tall and slim skeleton standing there, sharply dressed. He was smiling widely until he met your eyes—his expression instantly fell. You must've looked terrified. He took a step back and coughed again, before touching his long digits just above his brow, his face perplexed.

“I...I AM SORRY IF I HAVE STARTLED YOU, DEAR HUMAN. I WILL ADMIT, THAT WAS VERY IRREGULAR OF ME.” For a beat he seemed concerned, but in the blink of an eye his expression rebounded. He then extended out his hand, offering it to you cordially. “MY NAME IS PAPYRUS, THE BROTHER OF SANS. I UNDERSTAND THIS MUST BE A VERY OVERWHELMING EXPERIENCE FOR YOU, BUT I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW PLEASED I AM TO SPEAK TO YOU OF MANY MATTERS OF THE SURFACE.”

He was right; you were overwhelmed. Nonplussed, you took his hand, unable to form words along with it. He shook your hand eagerly and you noticed he, too, had holes in his hands, as well as matching cracks in his skull. Was this a typical feature of skeletons here, or a unique family tait? At least he seemed to be of a much more up-beat and sensible disposition than his brother.

“I-I,” you started, before swallowing to clear your throat, “I’m pleased to meet you. Uh…” you trailed lamely, shooting a glance behind you. Sans's expression had gone neutral again. You couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. Toriel had definitely eased, her stern expression gone. Frisk had joined her, looking concerned. Toriel placed a gentle hand on Frisk’s shoulder.

“Papyrus, I know you have many questions for her, but I believe it may be best to give her some space. Why not take Frisk and help them with their assignment? They will need all the help they can get now that it is so late in the evening.”

Papyrus nodded. “OF COURSE. PLEASE, HUMAN, TAKE YOUR TIME TO ADJUST. LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU ARE READY AND ABLE FOR A VERY SPIRITED CONVERSATION WITH THE GREAT PAPYRUS.” He nodded to you, and you couldn’t help but give a giggle. With how different they acted, were they certain they were brothers?

Frisk trotted over to Papyrus before taking his hand. She certainly didn’t seem bothered by the hole, smiling up at him before leading him into the hall. As you turned back around to the two remaining monsters, you couldn’t help but want to go with them.

“I…” Toriel began, but even she seemed at a loss for how to continue. She moved over to the chair, taking hold of the back of it. “I trust you did not mean to scare us, or any injury to us, but you must understand why we are so jumpy.” She heaved a great sigh, and you noticed a tiredness appear to her eyes that you hadn’t detected before. “Unlike most monsters, I was alive when the near-complete genocide of our people happened. And yes,” she stated, shooting you a look, “that means that I have lived since the time before your history books. Centuries. Millennia, possibly. There are just a few of us left from that time. But we remember.”

You were at a loss for words. I mean, it was one thing to accept that this was real and there were monsters that no one knew about living under a mountain for centuries and that you weren’t crazy and…

You couldn’t even follow your own thought. You moved to your chair and sat down again.

“Jeeze. I’m so sorry for what happened. I don’t even know what to say, just… I understand why you would be so jumpy.” You looked to them. “I didn’t mean to react like that, I was just so _relieved_. But please, know that I literally have zero intention of hurting anyone, monster or otherwise. As long as no one is trying to kill me, that is, but from what I’ve seen of you guys I’m really not worried about that.”

You meant it as a joke, but then saw their expressions. You felt your stomach drop.

“There… Uh, no one’s gonna try to kill me, right?” You paused, and neither of the pair answered. “Guys?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> As promised, here is the next chapter the very next day. Thank you so much for returning to read!  
> I'll be doing my shout-outs for those who have commented on these two chapters on my next chapter, as I know some people who normally comment haven't read it yet. That being said, I want to do a special shout-out to omega-want-undertale for always posting my chapter on tumblr and being a big support, as well as Marionette1 and 9DifferentTypesOfCrazy for commenting before I could even get the next one up! Thank you! 
> 
> I made this chapter a bit longer; please let me know if you mind the longer length. I may start leaning more towards longer chapters as things get more in-depth, but if people prefer them short I'm sure I can break them up.
> 
> More to follow, please let me know what you think! Thank you!


	6. Gaining Sense Among Needed Spiels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6, in which Toriel gives some much needed explanation, Frisk and Pap work on a project, and Grillby and G have a chat.

 Toriel was the first to respond, after a heavy pause. “There is much that you must know about the underground. I ask that you try to understand before jumping to conclusions.” Toriel did her best to explain everything calmly, clearly attempting to use her most soothing tone to soften the harsh realities of their world. It did little to help—some of the things she said were so mind-shattering for your worldview alone, let alone inferring to your immediate situation that you practically had to stop her after every sentence. Monsters had been trapped here by humans and needed _human souls_ to break free. You considered yourself agnostic at the most religious of times—but Toriel assured you that not only souls were real, but that monsters dealt with souls on a daily basis, in one form or another.

“Many monsters use their souls, and the magic that came from it, to communicate with each other. We are mostly made of magic, you see, so for us this is as natural as speaking. Humans, however, being made of mostly physical matter, can easily be harmed by magic. Any monster, even when not attempting to harm, could do great injury just by saying hello. According to the opinion of some, it is for this reason that humans and monsters are, by nature, incompatible.”

“Then how has Frisk not been harmed? Is it because they are a child? And how did you all get forced down here in the first place?”

Toriel’s expression darkened. “It is my deepest pain to say that, for many monsters, an innocent child would mean nothing other than a means to an end. No, it has been so long since the war that most monsters have no idea what humans look like, just as I imagine most humans have lost all knowledge of us. And, for those that do… Well, Frisk is not the first to fall down here, but the first to survive making their way through the underground. That being said, Frisk defended themselves against the King of monsters, Asgore, and chose to spare his life.”

You balked. Frisk? Toriel was just talking about the child that had been here momentarily, correct? Toriel nodded to your unspoken question.

“That brings us to how we were sealed underground. All of our magic combined would not equate to the power of a single human soul alone. It was a testament to Asgore-” it was then that you noticed her voice tinged with venom at the name “-that he withstood such direct attacks from Frisk at all. If Frisk had actually intended to harm him, and not just weaken him until he assented to be spared, then I imagine they could have killed him with ease.”

She then closed her eyes, took a breath, and continued. “However, if a monster took a human soul, it would have great power. The humans of my time, upon learning this, decided to wage the war to prevent this from ever happening. As I said, we massacred, with ease. Your mages sealed up what little of us were left with an incredibly strong barrier, one that would take the power of _seven_ human souls to break. I’m sure they knew, even if we survived here for tens of millennia, there would be no way to amass and sustain a population of monsters with enough magic to break it.” Toriel then opened her eyes, but looked away from you, her gaze distant. “Still, he has collected six human souls. Upon Frisk’s sparing, those that knew of Frisk’s humanity said that we would wait for another human, and raise Frisk as our own. I do not think anyone expected it to happen this soon—to be honest, I wondered if it would happen ever again.”

“Then…” You took a ragged breath, your chest feeling compressed with tension as your mind tried to process all of this. “Okay. So… I get now that I am a very good opportunity for freedom. So, uh, to be plain—why have you helped me at all?”

“I am not Asgore.” Each word was practically stone, and you could tell you were dancing on the edge of a touchy subject for her. “Asgore has murdered six others to get what he wants, and I do not believe a single life is worth our freedom.” She then paused and gave a side glance to Sans. “I… do not know if the others would feel the same. But I ask that you do not be afraid, my dear. Frisk was indeed vulnerable as someone so young, but any adult human could easily defend themselves—or hurt us all—if they so wished. It is not you who is at our mercy, it is us who are at yours.”

Toriel settled her gaze on you, her stare unexpectedly kind. “I have been blind before to the nature of humans, but I have no doubt, my child, that you will do us no harm. I would stake my very soul on it.”

You weren’t sure if it was your exhaustion, or pain, on your mind on its last wheel from all of this mind-breaking information, but you felt yourself tear up at her words. How could she trust you so much, for knowing you so little? Especially after all that had been done to her, all that she had likely lost from your kind? It took everything you had not to rush out of your seat and tackle-hug her across the table. You settled for placing your hand over hers instead.

“I will do everything I can to prove you right,” you promised, attempting to speak the words from your core—your very _soul_. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had believed in you, seen so much good in you—and here a stranger was, saying she’d bet her life on you...

“so, uh,” sans said, startling you. You’d honestly forgotten he was there for a moment. “i don’t know about you gals, but i could certainly use a drink.” He scratched the chair back and stood up, hands on the table.

“I… do not know if that is wise, sans,” Toriel said, her brow knit with concern. You, on the other hand, could easily join in on Sans’s sentiment. You weren’t into drinking by any means, but it had been a _long_ day. “I feel we should keep as equal-headed as possible when dealing with this. We do not want to do anything to raise any suspicion, for any reason."

"trust me, tori, it would be much more suspicious of me not to show up at grillbz’s.” He then turned and seemed to regard you for a moment, that half-moon seeming to scan your face. “besides, she’ll have to get out some time. better her introduction to be when people are high- _spirited_ and more likely to accept a new monster coming out of nowhere.” His lips—the line of his mouth, maybe?—curved slightly, his expression turning kind. “plus, i'm sure anyone would need a drink after a day like today.”

 _Yes, please._ You sent a thankful glance back his way. Although you weren’t the keenest on hazarding out into uncharted territory, and you _did_ agree with Toriel that drinking in a room full of monsters that wanted your soul wasn’t the best idea, your muscles were practically screaming at you to get up and talk a walk after your long sleep. You began to stand.

“Absolutely not,” Toriel said, firmly, and you could feel yourself deflate. “She is only just healing and needs no poison in her system damaging what healing I have done. What she needs is rest, especially before encountering any monsters.” You gave a small, defeated sigh; she was probably right. You felt like someone could push you over with a marshmallow, let alone a monster using magic on you. “She should additionally be taught what to expect so she does not panic if, and more likely when, someone engages her with magic.”

That kicked your pulse up. What would happen then? How would you even defend yourself? You had definitely attempted magic at a young age (to the result of a lifelong fear of dogs after you were convinced you could “magic” an angry mutt to not be mad at you), and knew you were no mage. Do you just run?

You shot sans an apologetic look. “Sorry, I think she’s got me there. I think I better study up before that adventure.”

“hey, no skin off my nose,” he said, a skeletal finger scratching pointedly next to the gaping, somewhat triangular hole in the center of his face as he shrugged. “tell the kid i left. frisk _noes_ where i'll be if they need help with their homework.” His sole eye...light? flashed. It wasn’t until he was already out the door that you realized that was a wink.

“You were reaching for that one!” you called after him, only barely resisting the urge to follow it up with a raspberry. Toriel you heard chuckle, her laugh light and pleasant. You turned to her and gestured your thumb towards the open doorway, where Sans had just been.

“Is he really gonna be alright? I don’t exactly know him well enough yet to be assured he isn’t going to go yelling about my arrival as soon as he has a drink in him.”

“Sans will be just fine, I do assure you. He is a friend that can be trusted.” She patted your hand reassuringly, but it did nothing to assuage the unease in your gut. You wondered if you should tell her about his threat, but before you could speak, Toriel began to get up. “Now come, my child. Why don’t you help Frisk with their assignment? As intelligent as Papyrus is, I do fear his overzealousness for all things academic may blow the assignment past a child’s capabilities.”

You cleared the dishes with Toriel (taking a few bitefuls during the process), before taking yourself and your pie down the hallway and stopping at the first door, as instructed. You realized Toriel didn’t need to tell you which one was Frisk’s—the noise alone would have surely tipped you off.

You opened the door cautiously before peaking your head around it. At your entrance, both Frisk and Papyrus’s faces lit up. They were both kneeling on the floor, over some kind of diorama.

“AH, HUMAN! HOW GOOD IT IS FOR YOU TO JOIN US ON OUR ENDEAVOUR. THE HUMAN CHILD AND I ARE MAKING A DETAILED RECONSTRUCTION OF THE ECOSYSTEM OF WATERFALL.” Papyrus waved his hand over the open box. It certainly looked different than any waterfall you knew of—blue flowers, multiple cliff faces of dark blues, purples, and grays, and cyan water spilling over the various edges. It looked pretty, but… not exactly real to life. You supposed that’s what you got with giving kids artistic licenses.

After studying it for a moment, hoping it looked like you were taking your judgment seriously, you nodded and smiled wide. “It looks great, you guys!” You pointed to the water. “I love the color here, it looks so vibrant. It’s absolutely lovely.” Frisk clapped, and Papyrus nodded, with a… decently humble expression.

“IT TOOK MUCH TIME PICKING OUT THE PRECISE COLOR, BUT I BELIEVE WE CAPTURED IT PERFECTLY.” He put a hand to his chest, and you noticed something… off with his face. Part of it was discolored, just barely, around his cheekbones. Had you just not noticed that before?

Papyrus explained, at great length, the various types of monsters that inhabited waterfalls. You did your best to pretend to understand as Frisk continued on, modeling little monsters out of a clay-like substance before painting them. You wondered if these, too, were true to life, or if from a child’s imagination as well.

Eventually, Frisk and Papyrus both seemed finished and content with the diorama. You applauded them both on their efforts greatly, which left the two beaming with pride. Frisk then briskly trotted out the door with diorama in hand, presumably to show Toriel. You stared after them, lost for a moment, wondering how a kid that had been through so much still acted… Well, just like a happy, normal kid.

Papyrus then coughed, jarring you out of your thoughts. He held up a wrist, studying a silver watch that was double-looped over his thin wrist. “GOODNESS, I DO BELIEVE THIS TOOK MUCH LONGER THAN ANTICIPATED.” He looked at you, his expression sheepish. Despite having the same eyes as his brother, they held none of the intimidation. “I DO SINCERELY APOLOGIZE IF I GOT CARRIED AWAY IN MY CONVERSATION; AT TIMES, I FEEL… OVERWHELMED BY CERTAIN SUBJECTS, AND I BECOME LIKE SOMEONE ELSE ENTIRELY.” His hand then moved to rub the back of his neck. “I HOPE THIS DIDN’T SPOIL YOUR INITIAL IMPRESSION OF ME.”

 _Christ_ , if the two could be any more different, you weren’t sure how. You gently touched his arm. “Of course not; there’s nothing to apologize for. Enthusiasm is a wonderful thing to have, and it was wonderful to meet such a greatly intelligent and passionate person.”

Papyrus’s eyes lit up for a moment, the whites seeming to get somehow brighter. It was then that you noticed the discoloration again, this time much stronge— _oh my god was he blushing._

You felt your face respond in kind as realization smacked you in the forehead. For some reason, you just assumed they couldn’t—probably your brain trying to tell you that this was a skeleton, and _of course skeletons don’t blush._ You gave a cough of your own, embarrassed at your stupidity, and straightened up.

“C’mon, let’s go see what Toriel thinks.” You forced yourself to walk at a normal pace to the kitchen, ignoring the urge to sprint away.

Reaching the kitchen, Toriel was congratulating Frisk on the hard work. The four of you spent a good, long while discussing Frisk’s life down here—the friends they had made, the types of schoolwork expected, their favorite foods, and everything else you talked about with a child of their age—it all seemed so normal, if you didn’t pay attention to the strange answers (Monster kid? Ancient rune study? Glamburgers and Nice Cream?). Papyrus and Toriel seemed equally interested in Frisk’s schooling, and discussed quite animatedly about what subjects should and should not be included in the upcoming months. You didn’t know if this was a normal conversation they had or one that they purposefully chose to be somewhat normal and inane, but you appreciated it either way. Simple, neutral topics were exactly what you needed right now.

It was only a matter of time, however, that neutral became sleep-inducing, and you found yourself yawning. Frisk seemed as tired as you were, rubbing their eyes as their head lowered. Toriel immediately got the hint—her mom senses must have tingled, because you could barely finish your yawn before she stood up. “Well, I do believe I see two individuals in need of a good night’s rest.” She reached out to Frisk, picking them up with ease. “What do you say, my child, would you like to rest in my room again tonight so our dear friend may have the bed?”

“Oh!” You only just realized that the room you had woken up in was Frisk’s, and had displaced them from their bed the night before. “I’m so sorry Frisk, I didn’t mean to kick you out of your room. I can sleep on the chair in there if that’s easier, or on the floor—I swear, I’m not a picky person.”

“THE HUMAN IS ALSO QUITE WELCOME AT OUR HOME, I AM CERTAIN. I DO BELIEVE WE EVEN HAVE AN EXTRA COT IN THE SHED, AND IF THAT DOES NOT SUFFICE, I KNOW OUR COUCH TO BE EXTREMELY COMFY. I WOULD HAVE NO PROBLEM SLEEPING IN EITHER, AND THE HUMAN IS MORE THAN WELCOME TO THE SANCTITY OF MY ROOM.” Before you could even contemplate the offer, Toriel spoke.

“I do not think that is wise, at least not tonight, for the same reasons that I did not think it was a good idea for her to go with your brother to Grillby’s. There is still much she is yet to know, and she should be fully healed before attempting anything brash.” Papyrus seemed slightly crestfallen, but nodded.

“YOU ARE QUITE RIGHT, AS ALWAYS, TORIEL.” Papyrus then looked to you. “MY OFFER WILL STAND IF AND WHEN YOU SHOULD FEEL APPROPRIATE TO TAKE IT. YOU ARE ALWAYS WELCOME IN OUR HOME.”

Your heart warmed at the sentiment, though you seriously doubted you’d be running to stay at their house. “Thank you, the both of you, for all your kindness. This is above and beyond what I should ask for. Please, just let me know if you ever want me out of here. I promise with all my heart I’ll understand and won’t be upset; I know this is a big burden.”

“Oh hush, my child. It is no burden; you are now part of our family here. And we monsters always watch each other’s backs.” Toriel gave you a conspiratorial wink. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning in return; how had you lucked out so well?

“I FEAR IT IS TIME FOR ME TO GO; SANS HAS BEEN UNATTENDED TO FOR FAR TOO LONG, AND IT’S ABOUT TIME THAT I SHOULD RETRIEVE HIM FROM HIS BARSTOOL.” Papyrus unfolded himself, standing tall. At the mention of Sans, you cringed a little.

“Papyrus…” You began, unsure how to phrase your words. _Your brother threatened my life, maybe we shouldn’t be roomies in the future?_ “I really do appreciate your offer, but maybe you should check with Sans to make sure he’s okay with it?”

“OH, GOODNESS, NO,” Papyrus dismissed flippantly, waving his hand. “I HAVE NO DOUBT IN MY MIND; OF COURSE SANS WILL BE OKAY WITH IT.”

 

  
    Gaster!Sans   

Sans was _not_ okay with it.

Nothing about this situation at all, in fact, was okay. In this world of instability, Sans did all he could to cling to what seemed _same_ , what seemed _normal._ Things had been going… okay, despite the odd anomaly here and there (he glanced at the hole in his hand; sure, his palm looked like a spider donut, but he could deal with that). Then _you_ had to come, and dissolve whatever little feeling of control he had left on the situation. He did his best to dissolve you right back, drowning the thought of you in each bottle of beer.

Grillby watched as Sans downed the tail end of the brew before waving him over. The server moved over and stood stoically, the soft crackle of flames being his lone break of silence.

“…”

“oh, Grillbz, ya got such a way with words.” Sans placed his bottle down firmly on the barface. “yer a bit of a talker, but i like ya anyway.” He then shook the bottle for good measure. “another, if i could be so bold. and yes, before you ask, something’s got me really _fired up_ tonight. but i can’t talkaboutit, ok?”

“…” Grillby stood unmoving. Sans looked at him pleadingly.

“c’mon, don’t be so _hot-headed._ you know a promise is a promise; i can’t say shit, even under pain of _torch_ -ure.”

“…”

Sans gave a small groan, almost accepting having to sober up, before he suddenly perked. “hey, she never said i couldn’t show you!”

In a blink, sans was gone, a lone bottle falling over the only evidence he had been there in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> It's been quite a while. I bought a house, last summer, and it's taken all this time to finally move in and be settled with all the work we had to do. To those of you still around, or those of you who are new, it's nice to see you! 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!  
> Ali


	7. Golden Sips Abate Narrow-minded Standpoints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You attempt to sleep, but have an unexpected guest.  
> CW: Copious amounts of alcohol

**                   
**      You     

You bid goodnight to all, a haze of exhaustion blanketing you as you began to get ready for bed. Per your request (because  _holy fuck_  did you have to pee) Toriel led you to the bathroom—a door with a “Room under renovations” sign on it. Toriel attempted to apologize for the appearance of the room, but you rushed past her apology like this was the last bathroom on Earth.

“SorryTorielIreallygottagobye!” Toriel merely chuckled.

“Do not worry. I will be right back, my child.”

After you finished, you looked in the mirror, and felt aghast at your appearance. You looked like you’d decided to live off the grid and sucked at it—blood and dirt all over you, tears in your clothes from your fall, your hair apocalyptically knotted. You facepalmed; how could they not mention how grisly you appeared?

You then heard a light _knock-knock-knock_  on the door. You opened it to find Toriel holding some folded clothing. “If you would like, I have a nightgown for you to wear, and I could wash your clothes in the meantime.” You thanked her profusely, and she gestured to the porcelain tub in the back. “Please, feel free to take a shower or bath. We have naturally hot water coming from thermal vents, so do not shy from using it to your hearts’ content. I imagine it will do wonders for your mind and soul.”

Wonders it did. Toriel had strange products in her bathroom—likely better suited to treat fur rather than human hair—but they smelled lovely, thoroughly soothing. As you turned off the water, you had to push yourself not to fall asleep standing up in the basin

You dried your hair and attempted to don the nightgown. You realized it was literally just a copy of Toriel’s dress. _How many does she have?_ It was about 50 sizes too big, and nearly fell off your shoulders. You did your best to keep it on you.

 By the time that you actually got into bed, you were thoroughly glad that Toriel had advised you to stay home. Despite not doing much during the day, your body still felt like you had attempted a marathon and a half and was begging you for sleep. Although you normally had difficulty getting to bed, surely you would just close your eyes, and quickly fall into slee-

 **_Knockknock._ ** ****

You jumped out of your half-stupor, the knocks startling you. Was it Toriel telling you you’d forgot to turn off a light or something? You couldn’t see any light coming from the crack in the door, and it certainly didn't sound like Toriel's knock from before. Maybe Frisk wanted to get a toy before bed?

You almost considered ignoring it, your body begging for sleep. But the knock persisted. **_Knockknock._**

With an exasperated sigh, you tossed the covers back and slid off the bed, kicking some slippers on. You did your best to pull and bunch up what you of the dress could so you wouldn’t trip when walking. You yanked the door open--

For a moment, it looked solely liked darkness and empty hallway—before you saw a skeletal hand reach out. You nearly screamed, but instead of grabbing you, the hand planted itself on the doorframe. You saw a crescent light up in the darkness. 

“S-sans?” you whispered, doing your best to keep your voice low. _His pupil actually produced light?_ “You nearly gave me a heart attack! What are you doing here?”

“heya, kid,” he said, his voice low. You could just barely make out his grin in the dark. “how’s about that drink?”

You’re not sure if it was because this seemed like a scene in some terrible horror movie, but you felt your heart rate increase, small warning bells going off in your mind.

“Uh,” you began, unsure of how to decline without offending him. You looked down, pointedly. “I don’t think I have the proper dress code for that. And didn’t we decide that wasn’t the best idea?”

His grin, however, only increased. “what’s life without a few bad ideas?” He moved closer to you, and then you could smell it—alcohol. Beer, maybe even some whiskey?

“you’re drunk,” you said, plainly, unimpressed. At your comment, he backed off a little, taking his hand from the door.

“do you mind?” he asked. Although you couldn’t make out his expression in the darkness, this question sounded oddly… sincere. You decided to be sincere as well, and shrugged.

“Not… No, I guess I don’t. But I do mind walking around in the dark while both overdressed and underdressed.”

“i know a way we could take care of that problem,” he chuckled, “but it might be a little cold.” You don’t know if it was exhaustion, or head injury, or just your own idiocy—but it took a solid beat longer than it should have for the innuendo to hit you. Before you could respond, however, he took a step back, now fully out of your personal bubble. “lemme ask: how long do ya think ya can walk in that getup? mind, we’ll be in snowdin, so it’ll be pretty cold.”

You bunched the materials in your hand, assessing. He certainly seemed to be okay with his hooded leather jacket and jeans, so you doubted it could be blizzard weather. “Maybe ten, fifteen minutes? It depends on how cold it is, I guess.”

“perfect,” he said, nodding out the door. “i know a shortcut that’s exactly that long. c’mon.”

 _Wait,_ you thought, _when did I agree to this?_ You hesitated at the door for a moment before sighing, closing the door behind you as you followed the retreating figure. Oddly enough, instead of heading out the doorway, he went down the stairs instead.

“Wait… Why are we heading to the basement?” you whispered after him as loud as you dared. You didn’t think he was _actually_ going to turn on you and kill you, but… You had enough self-preservation to know it wouldn’t be too wise to head into a basement with a strange guy.

“this is where we gotta go.” The lighting was dim still, but you could make out him stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. You had to hustle a little to catch up to his stride; he noticed, and slowed down for you, his strides casual. For a shortcut, he seemed to be taking his time. “tori built her home around the only exit or entrance to the place. she wanted to make sure that, if anyone fell down here, she’d find them before they wandered out and got themselves hurt.” You seemed to be walking down a long hallway, so it certainly coincided with the story. “tori tried to save everyone.”

“Then…” You hesitated. The question was likely rude and on a touchy subject, but you tried to ask it delicately, curiosity pushing you. “How did they end up passing away?”

“you humans,” he began, although he didn’t look at you as he spoke, “ya were all too stubborn, or too proud, or too _curious_ —” that one stabbed you a little “—to stay. she’s just about the nicest damn person on the planet, but not even that could keep a human there.”

You could feel your stomach churn at his words. It must have taken out a lot on Toriel, to attempt to protect so many only to have them leave. And Sans clearly cared for her; the venom in his voice said enough—it must have been equally hard to see her pain, especially in someone so incredibly kind. It was probably best to let the subject drop, but…

You couldn’t seem to keep your mouth shut. “But… what about freedom?” Sans glanced at you, momentarily. “I mean… Don’t get me wrong, Toriel has been the sweetest, warmest host anyone could ask for; I have no disagreement there. But… imagine living in that one small area for the rest of your life. There was just the house, the yard, and where I fell in—how could anyone not feel that as stifling?” Sans seemed taken aback for a moment, before chuckling.

“right, just those three areas. nothing more. i forgot about that.” It seemed odd he could forget, having just been there, but you brushed it off as drunkenness. “i still don’t think that’s worth death. i don’t think it’s worth breakin’ tori’s heart, either.”

“I imagine they had to have had their reasons,” you pushed. “Maybe they had loved ones back home they had to get to. Maybe they had a family of their own, a mom of their own waiting for them. Maybe they were just frightened. Or maybe they wanted to be free to live their life, even with death as the potential end. We can’t know why they ended up here, sure, but for some people, leaving was probably worth the risk dying for.”

“and what about you, kid?” The question caught you off guard. The two of you had reached a set of huge, ornate double doors, towering above you. One of them was slightly ajar, a frigid breeze blowing through. Sans stopped in his walk and turned to you before rubbing his face wearily, the skeletal hand making soft clicks of bone against bone. “maybe it’s the cold air, but my buzz has died down a little, and i got a little more sense back in me. _i_ know i can keep ya safe, but if ya feel like coming out with me is a poor decision, well… now’s the time to turn back.”

You looked at the door, bright white light spilling from outside. It was thoroughly intimidating. You looked to Sans, studying him with what felt like clear eyes for the first time you met him. A first glance made him seem so easygoing, even cool—relaxed body language, casual dress, a small smirk playing on his lips… If you visualized him as human, you could see yourself meeting him at a small rock venue, sitting among regulars, easy to talk to over a beer. But he _wasn’t_ human, and he had certainly proved that he wasn’t relaxed through-and-through. On one hand, he had threatened you, intimidated you, and hadn’t exactly instilled the best confidence that he was on your side. On the other hand… he had certainly never lied or been deceitful yet, and despite his occasionally cheesy, almost charming nature, you felt a sense of… integrity radiating through him, down to his very core. You didn’t know what it was, but you felt like he’d stick to his principals, whatever they were, and fight for them to the death if he had to.

Maybe he was just as unsure about you as you were him.

“I… I think this is a poor decision,” you said. He nodded, not looking upset in the least. It surprised you that he was unoffended by your conclusion. He turned without complaint as if to walk you back. You quickly stopped him, firmly touching his arm, the feeling of leather beneath your hand somewhat reassuring. You smiled up at him, wide. “But I think I’m okay with making a couple poor decisions tonight.”

For the first time, you saw surprise take his face. He then rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head as he grinned. “jeeze kid, ya sound like my kinda girl.” Your stomach twisted, and you weren’t sure if it was in a good or bad way. “in that case, let's get going.”

He pushed the door fully open before the two of you walked out. Snow crunched beneath your feet as you made your way out, but… it was surprisingly not as cold as you thought it would be.

“I see where they got the name. How can it snow down here? And where is the light coming from?” You looked up, and couldn’t see ceiling—it was a haze of gray as if low-lying clouds were formed, almost at fog level.

“i think the snow is from a mix of microclimates and magic. the light is all magic, here since the first monsters came through.” Well, his answer was at least somewhat more scientific than expected. You held out your hand, letting some of the airy snow land on your palm. It sure _looked_ like normal, non-magical snow. You stuck your tongue out. Yep, tasted like water. You heard a snicker come from sans, and you had to resist the urge to stick your tongue out at him instead.

“So…” You purposefully looked away from him, acting nonchalant, listening to the rhythmic crunch of your pair of footsteps. “You and Toriel, huh?” You heard a small scuff, disrupting the steady tempo. It was your turn to laugh.

“nah,” he said, his cool tone sounding only _slightly_ forced. “tori’s just a friend. plus…” he then gave a thoughtful pause, and you wondered if he even knew what his reasons were. “well, tori has one hell of an ex. she’s said before she’s not interested in dating around after all that happened. and…” another pregnant pause. “tori is… great and all, and i know they say opposites attract, but… i feel i'm not what she needs. not this time, anyway.” He half-mumbled the end of it. Was there a time where it would have been a different answer? Or has he changed that much in his life?

“I wouldn’t sell yourself short,” you said. Sure, he hadn’t been the kindest to you, but you could certainly see the potential between the two, and you barely knew either of them. “I say if you’re into someone, you should go for it. Worst they can do is say no, and if they’re worth being friends with after, they’ll stick around even with the awkwardness.”

“i should just go for it?” he echoed. “i'll make sure to remember that.”

Something in his tone stirred your stomach again. You looked towards him, and he looked… neutral. You brushed it off, rubbing your arms. Okay, Snowdin wasn’t _too_ bad, but there was only so much you could take with snow gently falling over your exposed shoulders.

“ya hanging in there, kid?” he asked. You were surprised that, especially with his inebriation, he noticed. You grinned sheepishly.

“I guess I’m starting to get a little chilled.”

“shortcut’s almost over, then. just past these trees.” You followed him, unable to see any sign of civilization—

You world then tilted, and you nearly tripped and fell, but his hands caught you with ease. _Damn, them are some good reflexes, buddy._ You shook your head, feeling a little dizzy, probably from the unexpected level change.

“Woah! Sorry, thanks.” You straightened yourself up. He gave a casual shrug.

“no worries, kid. i'd joke about you falling for me, but that’s too cheesy, even for me.” You were pleasantly impressed. Maybe it wouldn’t be all puns— “i'm just not that _mouse_ y.” You groaned. “c’mon, don’t get _squeak_ y with me.” You swatted his hands away, causing him to laugh. “i guess you could say-”

You put your hand over his mouth. It felt… smoother than you expected. “Drink, please, now.” You felt his bone shift as he smirked beneath your hand. Freaky.

His hand grasped yours, lowering it from his mouth before motioning behind him with a nod of his head. “what luck, we’re here.”

You looked past him… And you could practically feel your eyes sparkle. Multicolored tea lights decorate the town sign, a Christmas tree not too far off with presents all around, and you could see the most adorable set of buildings nestled in cozily next to each other. It looked like what you had always hoped Christmas to be. You felt a certain stirring of sadness and something else within you. Whatever it was, you could feel emotions choking you up.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say. How had you missed _that_ through the trees? Although there was no one around, and though the place was still and quiet, you felt that the sweet contentment radiating from the town should be felt from miles away. This was more of a feeling of “welcoming town” than you could remember in your life.

“c’mon, kid, let’s get you warm.” His voice startled you, and you realized you had been silent for a good half minute in your stun. You felt yourself flush. He tugged on your hand in the direction of one of the buildings before dropping it, and you realized you hadn’t let go—or maybe he hadn’t?—while you stared off. Well, that was embarrassing.

Thankfully, the bar was only a short walk away, a large “Grillby’s” sign hanging over one of the buildings closest to the two of you. You quickly made your way over, before pausing in front of the door.  _Can I really do this?_

“second thoughts?” you heard him say behind you. You gave a sigh.

“And third, and fourth,” you said, and pushed the door open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Special thanks to Mitsuko_Elric, jarendegana, CrusnikRoxas, and Nina for commenting, and to those that kudos'd! I can't tell you how much the extra effort means to me. I hope everyone likes this chapter--we're finally getting into the real interaction, and I'M SO EXCITED. I'm a little nervous for the next chapter, as I'll be adding some elements, and I'm not sure if everyone will like them--but I'm certainly pumped to see the results!
> 
> P.S.: Sorry this chapter was a little short; I didn't have a great place to break the action. The next one will be a little bit longer than normal, so hopefully it balances out!
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts! [_](https://youtu.be/2fZRM1rKuWA)


	8. Genuine Songs About Nomadic Suffering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sans have a few too many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a song that I did not write. 
> 
> Listen to the studio version [here](https://youtu.be/U2Z6q6dJoEs)
> 
> Or, listen to a version that probably sounds closer to the scene:  
> [ here ](https://youtu.be/vbDPCQUM1m8?t=1m46s)
> 
> I encourage you to listen along!

As you entered, a blast of warmth hit you like you opened the front door of a furnace. Inside, you saw a sampling of more monsters than you could have imagined—what looked like various dog breeds (in armor?), a drunk bunny, a little shop of horrors plant, a cool fonzie-looking hamster, and  _a mother fucking fire person with glasses._  It all seemed so…utterly surreal. The chatter hushed for a moment, and you felt your heart stop.

_ThiswasstupidthiswasstupidI’mgonnadiewhywouldIriskthisholyshitI’mgoingtodieinadivebar._

You felt a hand touch the small of your back. It was gentle, but still enough to get you to jump. You looked up to see Sans standing close to you—he had an easy smile on his face, but he looked like he was almost… sweating? Could skeletons sweat without skin?

“Sansy~” the rabbit called. Her voice sounded friendly, but her expression seemed… off. “Two new friends in a couple weeks. It’s enough to make a girl jealous.”

“You better not be moving in city-slickers,” Fonzie-hamster called. “It hasn’t been icy enough for entertainin’.”

“Yeah, Sans, where’d you get this one from? You were only gone for a few minutes, and looked sloshed for the night at that!”

“c’mon, y’know me,” Sans said. “that was just the pregame. grillby, a round on me to welcome our new friend!”

The bar cheered, instantly placated. Sans still kept his hand on your back, guiding you to the bar. As you sat down, the ball of fire walked over. It took everything in you not to look for an extinguisher.

“grillby, meet my secret.” He then turned to you. “secret, meet grillby. you may have heard of him from the sign on the bar.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said meekly. He stared you down… Or, at least you think he did. He didn’t have discernable eyes behind his glasses.

“…”

You began to sweat, and not just from the heat radiating off of him.

“Grillby says it’s nice to meet you,” a bird, nearly half-off the stool next to you, announced. “He ain’t much of a talker. He’d _also_ like to know how sans is planning to pay for the round.”

“put it on my tab,” Sans said, brushing it off with a wave of his hand.

“Grillby would also like to know when you’re going to pay off your tab-”

“i know what he’s sayin’ ya bird brain,” Sans said testily. This surprised you; you figured he’d act all cool. It seemed to startle him too, and he rubbed the back of his head. “sorry, long day. grillby, ya know i'm good for it. plus, i brought ya a new friend. that should be credit enough.” He then grinned up at the bartender. You couldn’t notice any change, as he didn’t seem to have a mouth, but after a moment sans smiled in relief. “thanks, bud. y'know what i like, and make it a double. neat.”

There was a beat of silence, as Grillby looked (maybe?) to you. The bird sounded out again. “What’ll you have to drink?”

“Uh…” you hesitated. “I suppose it would be poor form to order a water. Could I have—” you then threw a side glance to Sans— “whatever liquor is cheapest, please.” This earned a chuckle from Sans.

“don’t worry about it, kid. you should try the grillby special. she'll take that, grillbz.” Before you could object, Grillby turned around and went back into the kitchen. It was only as he retreated that you noticed his smart-looking waiter uniform. _Cute._

You rubbed your arms, getting out the residual chill. Sans nudged you with his elbow. “ya hangin’ in there?” You nodded. “good, i hate to think that they’re _grilling_ you too hard.” You elbowed him back, much more forcefully, before putting your head down on the bar. Sans chuckled. “heads up, kid, here comes the drinks.”

You lifted your head to find that Grillby was making his way back through the door, cocktail in hand. It was practically golden, and you stared openly as he placed it down before you. Grillby continued in silence, pulling out a second glass and a tall bottle of luminescent teal liquid. He uncorked and poured in the glass before presenting it to Sans with little ceremony. You leaned over to the skeleton.

“I… I can drink this, right? This is edible?” Sans merely held up a finger, and pointed at Grillby. Grillby picked up the cup with the golden liquid, tilted it to the side, and snapped his fingers near the edge. The drink lit aflame and sparkled.

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed, causing Sans and the birdperson to laugh. “Grillby, that’s amazing!” Grillby set the glass down before you. Sans elbowed you again.

“go ahead; just drink.”

“I shouldn’t blow first?” you looked at the fire, holding it close to your face. You supposed it felt... not as hot as you expected, but still warm.

“i doubt anyone would object to blowing first, but I think you should just go straight for it on this one.”

You coughed out a laugh, flushing but not making a comment. Instead, you brought the glass to your lips…

Warm, but not hot. You took a sip, reaching past the flame for the liquid. There were distinct flavors of cinnamon, whiskey, and something like slightly burnt sugar, among other flavors you couldn’t place. You could feel a tender, leisurely warmth spread through you, from your stomach outwards. The first sip alone instantly took away the chill that had settled in your bones.

“Oh my God,” you murmured. You then looked up at Grillby. “Would you mind if I ask you to make every drink I have for the rest of my life?” Maybe it was just the drink giving you sparkle vision, but you swore you could see his flames burn a little brighter. He then quickly turned and walked off back to the kitchen. You looked to Sans, and he shrugged in response, before taking a sip. You watched the teal tip back and forth, as unusually bright as the colors Frisk had chosen for their diorama. He caught you stare, and motioned the glass toward you.

“sip?” he offered. “i'm guessin’ you’ve never had echo whiskey.”

“No, I haven’t, but it looks lovely.” You took the glass from him, your fingers brushing against his. You shivered; something about touching bone seemed instinctually _wrong,_ and you felt that same buzz again—was that the magic? You hoped he didn’t notice your aversion.

You swished the liquid in the glass, studying. Should you be worried about germs? Human-monster compatible diseases? Cooties?

 _Ah, fuck it._ Frisk made it all this way; surely you’d be okay. You took a healthy sip, letting it linger in your mouth. It was a big contrast to the cocktail Grillby had made—cool, with a light hint of sweetness and salt, and almost… flowery? You swallowed, and it stung going down, but stayed cool, replacing the heat of your previous drink. It also had a much more recognizable bite of alcohol, and you could feel an almost instant buzz. It made you grimace a little, but wasn’t unpleasant.

You eyed the drink. “Woah, that’s quite a drink. You must have a pretty hardy liver to handle that.” Sans didn’t immediately reply, and you looked over to him. He seemed to be staring at you intently, jarring your heart into misstep. You felt your skin prickle.  “Uh, Sans?”

“₩ђαt?” he asked, shaking his head. You felt the world go fuzzy, and your stomach flipped. You looked pointedly at the drink, before placing it back on the bar in front of him. Yes, _way_ too strong.

Sans seemed to regroup; the drink must have hit him just as hard. “sorry, heh. you better guess again, kid; i don’t got a liver to speak of.” He pushed away his jacket, and lifted up his sweater, showing… nothing but ribs and blank space between. You openly gaped.

“But… You just took a drink. I saw you.” Sans smirked, lifted the glass to his mouth, and poured—you could see his jaw flex as if he swallowed, and yet nothing flowed down underneath. You stuck your hand out, and felt nothing, reaching all the way to touch his spine—

Sans jumped, spilling some drink down on you. “shit,” he cursed. You reeled back, moving to grab some napkins, when you saw his face, there was a light yellow-tinted sheen on his cheeks.

“Grillby wants to know if you’d like to use the sink to clean up.”

You looked back at the birdperson, then around. You pretended not to notice Sans hastily shoving his sweater down as you searched. “Grillby’s not even _here._ ”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know the guy.” He nodded to the kitchen door. “Go ahead, he won’t mind.”

You relented, hopping off your stool with as much dignity as possible before walking back to the kitchen. Grillby had an open grill with a burger on top, and his hand underneath. _Nifty_.

“U-uh, sorry to interrupt,” you said softly—though by how Grillby reacted, it was as if you shouted. His hand hit the grill, knocking it, though the burger thankfully stayed put. “O-oh! Sorry! The… guy back there said it would be okay if I came back here. We had an accident, and my hair is all sticky now.” You gestured to your hair as evidence, before pointing to the door. “I can just go, though, if that would be better?”

“…” Grillby stood motionless, expressionless. How were you to guess what he meant?

“Ah, sorry. I’ll just go back out there, then.” You turned, hand on the swinging door-

“…it’s fine.” You heard behind you. The voice was raspy, crackling, almost snake-like. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought maybe some newspaper caught in Grillby’s flame and burned especially noisily. You whipped around.

“You can talk?!” you exclaimed. Grillby nodded. “Then why do they translate for you out there?” Grillby merely shrugged in response. You sighed, feeling foolish. “Well, in that case, I’m going to just wash up, I guess. Thank you, and sorry for the trouble.” Grillby nodded, and you went to the large basin. You quickly scrubbed the affected hair with a little dish soap and water before surveying the dress—thankfully, it was largely spared, except for a few areas in the deep royal purple. Hopefully Toriel wouldn’t notice before you could clean it properly for her.

You grabbed a couple of paper towels and dried your hair as best you could. You’d probably have to re-wash it later so it didn’t get frizzy (and you had just washed it today, too). What a pain. “Thank you, Grillby! You’re the best!” You then paused, catching a whiff of the hamburger as you were almost out the door. “That smells amazing, by the way!” You gave him a thumbs up before exiting. 

You moved back to your seat, attempting to toss your hair so it dried evenly. Sans was through the better half of his drink. He saw you approaching and tossed it down.

“sorry again, kid. here,” he said, nudging your drink towards you. “i didn’t even prank it while you were gone.”

“Prank it?” you asked, taking a seat.  You stared at it, swishing it around. It did indeed seem untouched.

“yeah, y’know, like pouring salt in it or somethin’. an unattended drink like that is practically an open invitation.”

You stared your drink a bit longer. _Wow_ , you thought, _I really should be more careful._ You side-eyed Sans, wondering if the underground had more…nefarious consequences to unwatched drinks. You shuddered. Sans seemed to notice.

“don’t worry, kid. nobody would do anythin’ to harm another _monster._ here,” he took the drink, taking a decent sip before proffering it back to you. “if you are goin’ down, we can go together. that’s what trust is built on.”

You took it back. Would Sans really have watched it for you? Maybe it was a poison that affected only humans? Was that why he emphasized the monster part?

He seemed to watch your reaction, his gaze steady. _Trust, huh?_

Maybe this drink meant more than just a drink.

You took a breath, before tossing it back. It certainly didn’t taste or feel any different, at least not immediately, other than the warmth coursing through your system much faster than before. You wiped your mouth with your thumb, before looking at it. Glittery.

You looked to Sans, and he had an expression you couldn’t read. You looked back down at your glass. For a reason you couldn’t place, you felt what you had just done had been oddly… intimate.

You heard the kitchen door open, and Grillby came out, a decent-sized burger on a plate in hand. You felt your stomach rumble. The pie had felt like years ago, and you had only managed to take a few bitefuls at that. Grillby walked towards you, and to your surprise, placed it on the counter in front of you. You looked at him, puzzled.

“I didn’t order anything?” you questioned. Grillby stood there for a beat, before you heard that distinct sizzling crackle again:

“…on the house.”

That was it; after tonight, if anyone could have your soul, it was Grillby. You let out a quick note of thanks before digging in, not giving a damn about politeness. It was the best burger you ever had.

“…Frisk had to save the damn underground to get him to talk, and she just shows up and gets an ‘on the house,’” you heard Sans grumble next to you. Grillby didn’t respond, but filled up Sans’s drink again. Grillby then reached under the counter, and pulled out what looked like… hot sauce? Sans visibly brightened.

“man, you know how to get me to _warm_ right up to ya, don’t ya grillbz?” Sans then took the hot sauce, uncapped it, and turned it upside down into his drink, before swishing the drink around. It turned a purplish color. You gawked, pausing mid-bite into your burger. Sans then swiftly tossed the whole concoction back. You choked.

“woah, kid, you okay there?” sans asked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. You beat your chest.

“Please tell me that wasn’t just hot sauce you put in your drink.” He looked at it and shrugged.

“You’re right; it’s better straight.” He opened his mouth wide, and let a solid stream of neon-red liquid pour right back into his throat. You nearly upchucked. Sans chuckled before leaning over to you.

“what, doll? can’t stand the heat?” You could almost taste the peppery kick coming from his breath, neon still at the corner of his mouth as proof that he _really did drink the hot sauce holy shit_. Abruptly, a tongue peaked out, licking the edge of his maw. It was bright, fluorescent yellow.

 _What the everloving fuck._ You were sure you’d have noticed that before now. If there were any doubt of this world, that all of this could be some elaborate drawn-out hoax made for a prank TV show, it died with that tongue. _No amount of special effects could make that._

You did your best to swallow despite the lump in your throat. It was then you noticed that, not only did the skeleton have canines, his canines were _long_ and _sharp_ and the shape and length of that tongue had been distinctly more _snake-like_ than you’d like to ever see again-

You felt your chest tighten as panic began to seize you. The re-realization of your situation sobered you unpleasantly and instantly. You quickly flagged Grillby down.

“Grillby, for the love of god, could I please have another drink? I’ll clean dishes, I’ll bus tables-”

You don’t know if he sensed your panic, but your new saint Grillby took pity on you and refilled your glass with the same liquid Sans had been drinking. You tossed it back instantly, resulting in a coughing fit. It was strong—and just what you needed. You attempted to relax as you felt the cool bite move down into your stomach. Grillby then re-topped you off, even without you asking. You didn’t throw this one back fully, but drank half in a good long swig.

“hey, kid, take ‘er easy, that’s no grillby special,” sans warned. “tori’d have my head if i got you blitzed beyond revival.”

“At least she’d be _ahead_ of the game.” Sans, instead of laughing as you hoped, eyed you. You took another sip.

“i thought you hated puns, kid?”

You shrugged. You could feel the roots of alcohol invading your veins, loosening the grip of anxiety. “Tipsy me finds them much less annoying.”

“and drunk you?”

“Well,” you said, pausing to finish off the glass, “we can certainly find out.”

Sans seemed to debate this over for a moment, before sighing. He reached in to a side pocket of his jacket and pulled out a few coins. They looked like… _pure gold?_

“grillby, for the first time i'm gonna pay my tab—in exchange for goin’ against your better judgement. let's have another couple here.”

 

 

Gaster!Sans

 

It ended up being more than a couple. Not for the first time, Sans started to get ready to leave Grillby’s much later than he had initially planned. He’d known it was foolish to let you stay past a drink or two, but the way that you had looked at him… Well, he couldn’t stand to see anyone looked that panicked and hopeless and still be sober if he could help it.

He couldn’t say he could blame you—the bar had been less welcoming than he expected. Maybe it was just his imagination, but when Frisk failed to leave the underground, it seemed like everyone he met was so much hopeless than before, even the ones that had no idea about Frisk or how close they all came to being free. Then again, maybe that was his own disappointment filtering his vision.

And maybe that was why, when Grillby approached him with a guitar, Sans near-instantly relented. “grillbz, y’know i can’t tonight, i gotta watch the kid.”

“I’m notta kid,” you drunkenly mumbled, your face flush to the bar. Well, he was at least sure you weren’t going anywhere—he seriously doubted you could stand at this point. Still, while normally he wouldn’t bat an eye, the idea of singing in front of a human felt… wrong. Not much was sacred to Sans, not in this time—but playing at Grillby’s was different. It was the one place he felt he could make a difference on this run, even if it was just for a moment to a room full of drunks. And, more pointedly, most of the songs were usually against humans in one way or another. Did a human deserve to witness the expression of their pain?

Sans looked at you again, doing his best to focus. You looked just about knocked out.

“whatdaya say, kid? how’s about some music?”

“Nkgflz,” you muttered back incomprehensibly. Perfect.

“C’mon, Sansy~” came the voice Bun, or Drunkbun as Sans referred to her in his head. Sans, usually ever vigilant, nearly jumped at her sudden appearance next to him. “I think we could all use a song right now. The room seems kinda down.” She then looked to you, disdain only slightly hidden from her face. “I think your… friend will be okay.”

Sans, however drunk he was, could tell that Drunkbun was jealous. It took what little restraint he had not to laugh out loud at her. _If you knew what she was, toots, you woudn’t be tearin your_ hare _out._ He might be an unredeemable flirt, but he wasn’t quite _that_ stupid or suicidal enough to try distracting himself with a human.

Her urging was enough to push Sans over the edge. He grabbed the guitar from Grillby, resulting in a cheer from the plastered group. Drunkbun cleared a space on the bar—notably as far away from you as possible—and Sans sat up on it, resting the guitar on his lap.

“only one tonight” he said. This received a couple boo’s, but he waved it off. “don’t worry, we can still party it up with some _boos_ after.” The group chuckled, placated. He took one last glance in your direction—Drunkbun blocked the view, but it least meant you were laying down still, probably out cold. He took a breath, centering himself, and began to play:

“come all you weary,  
with your heavy loads  
lay down your burdens,  
find rest for your souls.

‘cause my yoke is easy,  
my burden is kind.  
i'll take yours upon me,  
and you can take mine.

come all you weary,  
who move through the earth.  
you've been spurned at fine restaurants,  
and kicked out of church.  
i've got a couple of loaves,  
so sit down at my feet,  
lend me your ears,  
and we'll break bread and eat.

come all you weary,  
come gather round near me,  
find rest for your souls

come all you weary,  
you crippled, you lame  
i'll help you along,  
you can lay down your canes

we've got a long way to go,  
but we'll travel as friends  
the light’s growing bright  
further up,  
further in.

come all you weary,  
come gather round near me,  
find rest for your souls,  
rest for your souls.

come all you weary,  
come gather round near me  
come all you weary,  
come gather round near me  
find rest for your souls,  
rest for your souls,  
rest for your souls,  
rest for your souls.”

This was an old one, from (if legend was correct) way back when the monsters first went underground, when food was scarce and survival was exhausting. Those of the group still awake and sober enough to remember the words sang along. As Sans finished, it earned a smattering of applause. Feeling duty fulfilled for the night, he hopped off the bar, and handed the guitar back to Grillby. He went to move over to you, but found the tipsy bunny in his way.

“Where ya goin’, Sansy?” she asked, putting her hands behind her back and puffing out her chest. “I thought you were gonna booze it up with us.”

“maybe some other time, doll,” he said, feeling suddenly worn-out. She pouted, ears folding back in disappointment. He was a sucker for sadness, but visions of Tori dismembering him danced in his mind. He put his arm around Drunkbun’s shoulder, disarming her pout quickly. “c’mon, y’know i'd love to stay. this… is a friend of pap’s, though, who i had to get blitzed after she listened to pap’s lectures all day. i promised i'd get her back safe, and y’know how i am with my promises.” This was all true, from a certain perspective. Drunkbun seemed to consider this for a while, before nodding.

“Welllll, alright,” she said. “But you owe me a drink next time, okay?” Sans smiled, relieved. That was getting off fairly easy for Drunkbun.

“you got it, doll,” he said, smirking. “see ya ‘round.” Always good to leave _that_ door open. Sans managed to slide around her, making his way to you. You were thankfully still passed out, and he felt himself release a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. He gently nudged your shoulder, not wanting to startle you.

“hey, kid. rise and shine.” After a moment, you shot up, nearly falling off the barstool. Sans’s soul froze for a moment, and he clutched his chest. “fuck, kid, who jumps out of a dead sleep like that?” You looked at him blankly, your face a few shades paler than they had been when you had begun your night, and remained mute. Sans knew that face; he had seen it on himself many times. He called it the “if-i-open-my-mouth-i'll-puke-until-tomorrow face.” Sans sighed, rubbing the top of his head wearily. “alright, kid, upsidaisy.”

Sans cautiously slid his arm around your abdomen and hoisted you so you were standing upright. If you were in better shape, he would’ve just taken a shortcut right to your room, but he figured that’d be a one-way journey to vomit city. He tried to take a step forward with you—you ended up clutching onto his jacket so hard it nearly pulled the both of you down. It was going to be a _long_ walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> So, I debated at length about including real music, especially since at times lyrics can feel a bit cringey and cliche. However, it feels like this would be what good ole g' would do in this world, so I figured ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Some songs I may change some of the words to (if it's really out of place for the character) but I'll try to keep it as close to the source as possible.
> 
> This particular song is "Come All You Weary" by Thrice. My personal imagination of G's singing voice is very similar to the lead singer, Dustin Kensrue's—maybe a bit lower and a little bluesier, but with the same rasp and rumble. If you could just mash up this voice and the voice from the next song I plan to put in, it would be perfect!
> 
> Let me know what you guys think, especially about this new inclusion! And, as always, thank you all ♥ I hope you like it.
> 
> Thank you to jarendegana for commenting! You rock!!!
> 
> Hope you all have a great Memorial Day weekend, if you celebrate it!


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